Where? Down the woods. What for? We’re going for a smoke. Really, where did you get them? Mark got them. I don’t know. Come on, just one. Ok…
That was 23 years ago when I looked about 12. Actually, I was nearly 16 and it was time for my rite of passage or so I was led to believe. It was written in newsagents all over the land, “you must be 16 to buy tobacco.” 17 was the year I was to be given a weapon to drive around at 70mph and at 18 it would be time to transport litres and litres of liquid on a Friday night to behind a bin in some side street.
Unlike the last 2, the first rite of passage I would be doomed to repeat 8–10 times a day, every single day over the next 22 years.
It’s what everyone was doing, claiming they could stop when they wanted. If they can do that then so can I, well before the onset of any illness, for sure. They said it would affect me physically, actually I’m still getting stronger and quicker, my lungs feel fine. So many lies told, I wonder what else they have been lying to me about, maybe cocaine and heroin aren’t addictive. Hmmm maybe when I’m 21.
Time for Uni, it’s been 3 years now. I’m going to be a student, they’re really poor right? Prices on the up. New crowd, new friends, I know, I’ll reinvent myself, introduce myself as a non-smoker. Yes, I am free, I have a plan and it’s going to work. It lasted all of 8 hours, 3rd pint in hand at the welcome night in the bar. Look at them, deep long drags, so much fun and laughter, pleasure, why should I be the one missing out? Have you got a spare one?
A scab, a scrounger, a pain the bloody arse, time to buy my own, admit I’m in the gang once again. Made the team, still running, still jumping, still fit right? Not so sure, but I can be a little less intense on defence, it’s fine. Friday nights are heavy but still that’s what student loans are for right? Next year, I’ll stop before I’m 22 like all my buddies at school said they were going to do. It’ll be easy, no worries.
Finals, not a good time, anyhow a girl I like does it so it can’t be all that bad. Man, she likes to smoke. Gotta keep pace or she’ll think I’m weak. So nice right after, just like the films. Next year, or maybe we can do it together, we’ll succeed, bond for life.
New country new setting and a wage, a good one at that. A culture of smokers but they live the longest so is it helping? Maybe so, less sport now, less restrictions. I can even smoke in the staff room, what kind of school is this? Wait a minute, my teachers were the same. It’s all been lies. I knew it. No need to quit, no, wait, remember, take a breath, feel. Not the same as before, or is it? I can’t remember anymore. New plan; stop before I go back. Start the next chapter without the crutch.
Mr Carr to the rescue. It worked! That was easy. 6 more weeks and I’ll be home. If only.