duck-shaped pain

2000-09-04
Where I Cough Less

One year ago today, I stopped smoking. It's been a good decision -- I'm much healthier, I gained a lot of lung capacity, don't catch every cold that comes down the pike anymore, don't smell bad, have more money to spend on other useless things, etc. Still, there are a few things I miss about smoking:

1. Being a member of the International Brotherhood of Smokers -- the informal organization formed whenever a bunch of smokers are together. You get to wheedle and complain about non-smoking areas, bum smokes off each other and try to put the moves on other attractive smokers. (If you both smoke, that's one less hurdle to deal with in a new relationship...)

2. Naming your lighter. Every new cigarette lighter needs a name, and past favorites that I and others I know have owned include .45 Auto, Mr. Impotent (an enormous lighter with a little teeny flame), The Disco (silver with glitter on it), Scary Clown Head and Frowning Indian (both named for the pictures on the front of them). Naming other objects, like your keys or pens or dust balls, isn't as amusing.

3. Always knowing you have matches around in case of an emergency.

4. Haven't found a good alternate use for my nice mother-of-pearl cigarette case -- matches? no. Pocky? no. Business cards? No.

5. Taking smoke breaks at work. I still take breaks, but smoke breaks seemed more important and unhurried -- this might be because breaks always had to be long enough to finish a cigarette, whereas other breaks can end pretty much any old time.

6. Having something to do while waiting for the bus. I don't take the bus much these days (there isn't much of a bus system here), but when I do, it's nice to have something around to pass the time with. Also, the rule about smoking while waiting for the bus is as follows: the minute you light your cigarette, the bus will show up. Always happens.

7. Lucky Strike straights -- the cigarettes that make people leave you alone. I used to smoke them when I went to bars or coffee shops alone. Men fear you when you smoke them -- they take one look at the unfiltered end and think, "She's more man than I am."

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