Smokin!

When I was in the eighth grade, my best friend invited me over for a private rendezvous in his tree fort. He had pilfered some cigarettes from his mom's purse and we had our first smoke fest. Our noses ran, our eyes watered and we coughed a lot, but we were cool. I deciced shortly thereafter that I didn't like smoking. Even though my folks did and I'd inhaled thier stuff since my birth, I still couldn't get used to it. I figured then I didn't need cigarettes as part of my persona. They weren't for me.

I've often wondered what prompted the individual who initially discovered tobacco, to decide that the smell and discomfort caused by the smoke was somehow beneficial. What was the attraction? Maybe they had bad BO and the nicotine fumes smelled better. Perhaps a more suitable fly and evil spirit repellant? Who knows.

And now, what is it about someone with one of those little white things poking out their face that convinces them they're visually in style? It really looks silly. Somehow, the masses have concluded that a cigarette, on fire, in your mouth, can improve your appearance. It's decidedly better than a finger up the nose. But really, what's the draw here? Freud would have much to say on the matter. I don't get it though. Why would someone who doesn't smoke, ask someone who does, for a teaching on using a substance that burns the eyes, makes them cough and smell bad? It's a peer pressure mystery.

Another puzzlement that has me thinking. Why do women smoke? Guys scratch and spit, squirt snot and fart, so it's not too much of a stretch to add a ciggy to the behavior. The image doesn't suffer. A gal however, that's got a nice do and duds, the right makeup with danglies and beads, who lights one up, just doesn't do it for me. As a matter of fact, any woman, gussied up or not with a cigarette isn't too attractive. There's an ample amount of unappealing that's been added. So ladies, if you smoke it ain't pretty. Besides, you stink.