Smoke tastes like … well, smoke!
I’d rather fight than switch!
Whoa, way too violent.
I’d walk a mile for a Camel.
I wouldn’t walk two blocks up to the corner market to get my mom a carton of milk, why would I walk a mile for a buy cigarettes?
But when we saw the “Marlboro Man,” that was it. Here was this macho guy who could smoke a cigarette and wrestle a steer at the same time (hey, no one told us at the time that 20 years later he’d be wheezing and wrestling with an oxygen tank that he’d have to take everywhere).
So we sent Dennis into the store to buy a pack. He looked pretty old for his age — maybe 17. Heck, he’d even shaved a couple of times! So we figured he had the best chance of getting away with it. He did — the guy behind the counter never even looked at him.
The folks were going out at about 7 p.m., so the guys were coming over at 8.
“I still don’t like the idea of you being here alone,” Mom said as she and Dad got ready to leave.
“Don’t worry,” I said nervously, “I won’t be alone. The guys are coming over.”
“That’s enough to worry me,” said Dad. Do you think he knew something?
When the guys got there we wasted little time. We ripped into the Marlboros and lit up.
It was weird. We sucked in smoke and blew it out. We thought we were cool.
“Hey, this is great,” Dennis said.
“Uh huh,” said Steve. All I could think was, “I can’t breathe!”
“You really look cool,” added Dennis.
“Yeah, really?” Steve asked with a greenish grin. I was just thinking, “I hope I don’t look as stupid as you.”
“You know,” Dennis finally said. “You’ve really got to inhale.”
Yeah, right! (I think Steve and I were in agreement on that one.) The smoke curled up and tickled my eyes at first. The tickle quickly became a sting, and then my eyes began to tear. But that was the least of my problems. I started choking, coughing and gasping for air.
“That’s it,” I said choking. “I don’t care how cool this looks, I’m not smoking.”
Steve looked relieved that I quit first.
“Anyway, you can get hooked on these things,” I added.
“Hey, I can quit anytime I want to,” he said boldly. “I just don’t want to.”
That was about 45 years ago. I haven’t had a cigarette since. Oh, I’ll huff and puff on a cigar or two, but cigarettes? Not interested.
Dennis, though, still smokes.
In fairness to him, he went into the Marine Corps right after high school and served a stint in Vietnam. That’s where he really got hooked.