My Story...

The first time I ever brought tobacco to my lips I was very young. I was four. It was after church and I was sitting in the Cadillac with my father while my mother finished her shopping. He had a medium sized cigar going and its smoke was rolling around in the car. I remember watching the tendrils of smoke, highlighted by the sun, curl lazily around our heads. The scent was sublime. The combination of sight and smell was so irresistible that I couldn’t help but do the unthinkable- I asked my father if I could try some.

The look of shock was quickly replaced with one of humor as he told me to crawl into the seat beside him. He said that I had to be quick and only try a little- that I wouldn’t like it. He brought the smoking end to my lips while I closed my eyes and tried to fit my small mouth around the butt. I barely managed it. I sucked on it like I had seen him do and the smoke quickly rolled into my mouth. Too soon he yanked it away, telling me to blow it out. I remember flicking my tongue around my cheeks, collecting particles of taste, before I slowly let it escape from behind my lips. As I watched it coil out of my mouth I breathed in through my nose and IN IT WENT! I was startled and amazed- it was a whole new experience. It tingled and burned a bit, like wine at Christmas, but better. Right then I knew…. I WOULD smoke again. It would be almost 10 more years before I had my chance…..

I was thirteen and it was summer vacation. Like the country bumpkin I was, I spent my summer with good friends an hour away out in the middle of nowhere. There we had many adventures; encounters with wild animals, skinny dipping in quiet lakes, and hikes through unchartered territory, lol. One such adventure was the discovery of cigarettes.

My good friend Donna Lee whispered in my ear at the kitchen table that she had a present for me. I looked over to her sister Amy and noticed the naughty conspirator grin she had on her face. I knew something good was afoot. After breakfast they grabbed my hand and we took off into the backyard, running, laughing, deep into the woods beyond their home. Once we had crossed a large creek we settled down behind a huge fallen dead tree, and there Donna pulled out her gift. As she handed me the half full pack of Capri’s and a lighter she told me how she had noticed how I always watched her mother as she smoked them. Amy laughed and said I looked like a zombie every time I watched the smoke rise to the ceiling. She said it was obvious I was dying to try one. They had filched them from her stash so I could have my chance. It was my gift so I got to do the honors.

I pulled three thin cigarettes from the pack with excited shaking hands. I looked at the cigarettes for a minute, relishing the moment. I brought them to my nose and inhaled the slightly fruity nutty scent and then placed all three in my mouth. Pausing, I looked at my friends and grinned. I couldn’t thank them enough. Quickly I flicked the lighter and brought the flame to their tips. I pulled it into my mouth and let the smoke just sit there, to enjoy the taste. I pulled two away, blew out the smoke and handed one to each of them. Together, we inhaled for the first time. Donna gagged, Amy coughed. But my lungs just did a quick hiccup and then pulled the smoke in deeper. As I exhaled I felt a rush or tingle of energy go through my limbs. I quickly brought it back to my mouth for another drag- bigger this time. As I exhaled I watched the smoke coil and felt a little dizzy. It was like being hypnotized. I couldn’t get enough. The taste…. The smell… THE SMOKE. I loved it!

I finished mine first and took over Donna’s as she said she couldn’t finish it. She said she felt a little sick. As I finished Donna’s, Amy finished hers. We both smiled and pulled out another for each of us.

Light. Lips. Inhale. I couldn’t get enough- they were so small. I was done too quickly. Amy said she had had enough after our third but I wasn’t done yet. I pulled the last one from the pack- my fifth. They were laughing at me, amused by my obsession with watching the smoke catch in the wind. Already, they were planning on getting me a bigger cigarette. Such good friends. I said I wanted to REALLY enjoy the last one, so I wandered to the edge of the tree. I climbed on top of it, laid back on a branch, and lit my final Capri. I took a big slow drag and inhaled as slowly as I could, then exhaled at the same pace; this time trying to breath it in through my nose. The smoke was too thin to really see it go in, so the next time I took a drag I kept it in my mouth. Slowly I parted my lips a small fraction to let the smoke escape and started to breathe in through my nose. It worked perfectly but I couldn’t get the whole stream in. Fascinated, I sat there and practiced my French inhale for the whole cigarette… right until the end. I was dizzy and felt like I wanted to run for miles. I knew it was the smoke that made me feel that way, and I loved it.

I took one final deep inhale and blew it out. Watching the smoke drift away, I sat there and daydreamed about one day learning to do all the tricks that I saw their mother do. One day I would be a master of smoke.