Oh the irony life teaches! Damn you! I’ve always been a bit of an upper-class self indulged twonk with perpetuating believes and opposition to smokers.
I can’t stand the smell of cigarettes and I hate to see friends smoking because I know how much it is probably ruining their life’s. I have, like many tried cigarettes, joints and cigars. I was recently in a phase where after a bottle of wine I would consume a packet of cigars. The mellow smell and taste ad hear to me. Even the very idea of a cigar seems sophisticated and appealing.
So how can I be so judgemental to those who smoke cigarettes. When knowing if England was anything like the middle east with its Shisha Cafes it’s where I would be found most of the time. Mellow and slightly intoxicated with tobacco and fruit syrups. Mountain Dew being a preference and happily discussing life, politics and stupidity with any number of people. My English Witt and sarcasm forgotten.
The reason for this post is simple. I recently met a smoker who only smokes roll-ups. Walking to work this morning I really wanted a roll-up. There was no call for it, I admit – I had just walked past some smokers in disgust smelling the air and my clothes. My mind turned to a nice relaxing drag of a roll-up to swill in my mouth and like I smoke cigars – expel through my nose.
I was intoxicated and infatuated by the smell, both that lingering on breath and after each pull floating in the air.