Yes, this was going to be a good day, Debbie decided. It was bright and sunshiny, and she was already out driving in her car early on a Friday morning. But even if the day had been gray and soggy, she was sure in her heart that it still would have been a good day. For quite aside from any external events that make a day a good day, Debbie had the peace that comes from finally making a decision, a sort of triumph of the soul from taking things into her own hands.
Well, maybe that’s a bit too “drama queen,” she thought to herself. Still, it felt good to be in charge, and the comfort she drew from that feeling helped assuage the cravings she was experiencing at this moment. Just a little longer, and she would fix that…
How had she gotten to this point anyway? A year ago, she never would have dreamed it. Throughout her growing-up years, and even through high school, she had no desire to smoke. It didn’t have nearly as much to do with anything she’d been told in health class as with the experience she’d had in her own family.
First, there was Grandma Carole. Growing up, her grandma did a lot of babysitting of Debbie and her younger brother. You never saw Grandma without a cigarette in her hand. Her voice was raspy and her teeth were yellow from years of dedication to her habit. She would pull up in that ratty looking Oldsmobile 88 of hers and Debbie and Jess would climb into its smoky confines. She’d always stop at the corner drugstore and buy them some candy, and herself 3 cartons of Tareyton’s. Then they’d go to her house and play downstairs, while Grandma sat at the kitchen table reading romance novels and chain-smoking. Oh, she was a great-hearted person, and just thinking about her brought a bit of lump to Debbie’s throat, but as an inducement for smoking…
And then there was her mother, Anne. She was beautiful, thin, and pretty. She had her differences with her mother Carole, and often reacted against her in forms of subtle rebellion. But it took a weird direction here. Instead of being a non-smoker, she was a closet smoker. She hung out with a non-smoking crowd at work, and she flat-out lied and told people she didn’t smoke. But as soon she left work and
got out of sight of the office, she lit up a cigarette, being careful to blow the smoke out the window. (Salem’s were her brand.) When she got home, she would head to the back porch and proceed to raise her blood nicotine to acceptable levels. Deep inhales. Later, Debbie found out that often, Anne made it through the day at work by wearing nicotine patches, which she carefully hid under her business suit. Debbie loved her mom, but, man, such a hypocrite.
So, Debbie had entered college without even the desire to smoke. In fact, she looked at college as a way to distance herself from her family, to strike out on her own. She took to the university environment like a fish to water, making friends with lots of the girls in the dorm, going to parties, and really enjoying her roommate Jill, with whom she had a lot in common.
Then one night she went to an off-campus party with Jill. They had a few drinks and had a good time with the rest of the crowd. Jill then said, “Wait here for me; I’ll be right back.” When she returned, Debbie was surprised to see her holding a lit cigarette.
“Jill, I didn’t know you smoked!” Debbie said.
“Well, I’m not a real serious smoker; just at parties and stuff. Would you like a cigarette? I can get you one from one of the girls over there.”
Debbie hesitated. “I don’t think so,” she said.
“I wouldn’t try to change your mind, Deb, but it’s no big deal. If you don’t like it, you can always quit.”
Debbie looked around. There was lots of smoking going on, and everyone was having a good time. She hadn’t really thought of smoking in that way before. Maybe it was that, or maybe it was the drinks acting on her, but she found herself saying, “OK, I’ll have a cigarette.”
Jill found her one and helped her light it. “Small puffs, now. There you go; you’re getting the hang of it.”
And after she’d puffed it a few times, she began to laugh to herself. This is what she had been so concerned about? It was like Jill said; it was fun and she could quit anytime she wanted.
So, like Jill, she began smoking at parties. At first, it was one or two cigarettes per party, then 3 or 4. She gradually learned how to inhale, and found that she liked it.
One day, as she was heading back to the dorm from English class, she saw a bunch of people, guys and girls, hanging out in front of the dorm. Most of them were smoking. They called out to her, and she joined them.
“Hey, Deb, would you like to have a cigarette?” one of the guys offered.
“Uh, yeah, I guess so,“ Debbie replied. So she accepted it and he lit it for her. She was surprised at how good it tasted, and at what a good time she had talking and laughing with her new friends. They started to make the afternoon “dorm smoke” an unofficial ritual, which Debbie began participating in more and more frequently.
It was at about this time that Debbie realized something. Up until now, she had always bummed cigarettes off other people. She didn’t think of herself as a “real” smoker, so she had never purchased cigarettes. But she also realized that she didn’t want to be a cheapskate. So that night, she walked down the street to the grocery store and bought her first pack. Parliament Lights. She had a couple that night, then the next afternoon, for the first time, she was able to brandish her pack and say to her friends, “Anyone need a cigarette?” One of the girls from the second floor did, and Debbie lit her up.
What could she say? It was downhill from there. Once you start buying packs, they are with you, and it becomes easy to reach for a cigarette. One morning, after history class, she had an odd sensation. She really wanted it to be afternoon, so that she could have a cigarette with her friends. But there was no one around, the dorm was way over on the other side of campus, and she had another class in an hour. So, she dug her cigarettes out of her backpack, and lit one up. Her first “solo.” So satisfying.
This process continued until the day Debbie ruefully remembered as “Black Thursday.” She had a break between classes and reached for her pack, and saw that she was down to her last cigarette. “But,” she thought to herself, “I just bought that pack on Tuesday!” In a little over a day, she had gone through an entire pack. She panicked, and decided right there to quit cold turkey. She avoided her “dorm smoke” friends and fidgeted through her evening studies.
Funny thing. That night, Debbie asked Jill if she ever smoked during the day. Jill said, “No. And someday when I quit partying, I won’t do it at all.”
“The little bitch,” Debbie thought to herself, only half jokingly.
Debbie spent a sleepless night, tossing and turning. In the morning, she decided she couldn’t take it anymore, marched down to the grocery store, and bought a pack. She had been a regular smoker ever since.
Until today, that is. She had gotten up early and showered, and put on her nice pink blouse and white pants. She had gone to the dentist for teeth cleaning and whitening. And now, she was parking her car in the parking lot at the Super- Walmart.
Debbie took a deep breath and walked in, saying hello to the greeter. She headed for the pharmacy and made a beeline for the nicotine patches…which she walked right past. To the cigarette aisle.
“Two cartons of Parliament Lights, please,” she said to the cashier, with a smile. He asked for ID, and she cheerfully complied.
Debbie walked briskly to the Miata and quickly hopped in. She retrieved a pack from one of the cartons, tamped it down, and removed a cigarette with trembling hands. She placed it in her mouth, lit it, and inhaled deeply, the end glowing a rich orange red. As she exhaled out the window, a sense of peace fully enveloped her. She just sat there, taking deep drags on her cigarette, enjoying it, until she finished. Then, she lit up a second one, started up the car, and headed triumphantly back to campus.
And she knew in her heart that she was her own woman.