Smoking Cigarettes
It’s been years since I’ve puffed- it never really was my “thang”, but lately, for some reason, I’ve been trying to start. The reasons may not make sense to you, but they’re valid. As some of you know, I struggle finding things to talk about with people. If only I smoked, I’d have a natural entree, “… hey, what’s your favorite brand?”, I could ask strangers. “Is that a Menthol?…” A shy guy like me could chat. Aside, I’ve always wanted a hat like the Marlboro Man wears. A real 10, maybe 12, gallon “topper.” Sure I could buy one, but, at this point in my life, I’m undeserving. A real Marlboro Man smokes at least a pack a day. Maybe two. Me, I hate the taste and one puff makes me dizzy. But I continue to aspire to become a “nicotine fiend.” Rational thoughts aside, it does look cool. I’d own a Zippo and I’d learn to open and light it with one slick motion. I’d light up, flicking that first ash in a manner that would impress my fellow smokers on break. I just can’t seem to become addicted. I’ve set goals. If I can get it up to a pack a day, I’ll order that Stetson. I leave myself reminders on Posty Notes. On the fridge, “Wouldn’t a cig taste good?” On the bathroom mirror. “You’d look cool with a butt”. Still I struggle. Nothing helps [gornisht helfin] The taste is disgusting. Maybe there’s a support group? It must be so easy to quit, because it’s so hard to start.
If only I could accept a “Higher Power”, things would be a breeze. Alas.
Comfortably Zoned with Ralph Zig Tyko 
Leave a Reply