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Date Posted: 20:14:34 08/13/22 Sat
Author: Curious
Author Host/IP: 120.159.212.179
Subject: Re: Story Inspiration Sources (The AWS Material, Part Two)
In reply to: Curious 's message, "Story Inspiration Sources (Relaunch)" on 03:11:00 03/06/22 Sun
Part Two
----------------------------------------------------
AWS (Did you ever get a non-smoker to start smoking)
Back in college, I was dating a girl who was a non-smoker. She wasn't fond of smoking at all which sometimes made her make snarky remarks whenever I lit up a cigarette. I told her before we started dating that I had no intention of quitting any time soon so she knew going into the relationship that if she was going to date me, she had to deal with me being a smoker. Only a handful of times did she give me some serious shit for it and those times usually occurred when she was already in a bad mood because of other unrelated things she was dealing with on a given day.
Anyway, she had told me that one of the reasons she didn't like smoking was apparently because her mom used to be a smoker when she was very, very young. She said she didn't have any memories of seeing her mom smoke, but she did have memories of absolutely despising the smell. One evening, I'm over at her place. We ate dinner and I stepped out on her back porch for a cigarette. She'd had a long day of school and work and was both exhausted and frustrated with some work-related stuff. A couple minutes after I light up, she comes outside and sits in a chair next to me. I exhaled a drag and some of it wafted towards her. She scrunched her face and waved her hand in the air and said, "Oh come on!" in a half-playful, half-serious sorta tone. I smiled and apologized.
She said something like, "I really just don't understand how you can enjoy smoking. Nothing about it seems pleasant." I just asked her, "I mean, have you even tried smoking?" As I suspected, she said she hadn't. To my honest surprise, she then said, "Screw it, let me try one." I laughed, assuming she was joking, but she insisted again. I shrugged, handed her a cigarette from my pack and lit it for her.
It was amusing since she had never smoked before. Of course, her first several drags weren't inhaled, but I was shocked at her reaction. The reaction to her first drag was to be expected -- she made a face like, "what the hell is this?" But without me saying anything, she took another small drag and then made a more curious face like, "Okay, I guess it's not THAT bad..."
I explained inhaling to her and she coughed after a couple of drags and put the cigarette out, but once again to my honest surprise, she admitted, "Well, that wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be."
She never became an actual, regular smoker while we dated BUT she did develop at least a slight fondness for it. She'd occasionally ask me for a cigarette when I lit one. After a couple months she bought me a pack on her way to meet me and bought herself one as well, but I'm pretty sure I ended up smoking more cigarettes from her pack than she did. Maybe the most amusing moment came when we went on a trip that was an 8 hour drive. I drove first, then we switched. I dozed off for a bit and when I woke up, I looked to my left and she was smoking a cigarette while driving.
Not sure if she ever became a regular smoker, but it was pretty funny to watch a pretty staunch non-smoker learn that smoking wasn't as disgusting as she thought!
------------------------
AWS (Your First Craving)
Yeah, I'll never forget my first actual craving. May have told the story somewhere around here before.
I was 15 years old. I had been casually smoking every now and then, but it wasn't quite a daily thing at that point. I had begun stealing entire packs from my parent's cartons and hiding them in my room upstairs, giving me more opportunities to smoke since they were more readily available. I'd try to have at least one every evening, but it didn't always pan out like that, so I'd sometimes go on stretches of days where I didn't have one.
However, this was after I had been busted smoking by a friend's mom. She was the first adult to find out I smoked and one of the first people to find out I smoked period. Luckily for me, she was a smoker herself and rather than chastise me or threaten to tell my parents, she laughed it off, accepted it, and treated me as one of her "smoking buddies." Of course, I loved it as a 15 year old being able to openly smoke around an adult and feel comfortable. Whenever we were around each other, she'd offer me a cigarette whenever she lit up, offer to buy me a pack or two on the rare occasion that she could or give me a pack from her carton.
From time to time, I'd stay at my buddy's house for a couple of days straight when my parents went out of town and it was those instances when I'd smoke the most. She smoked A LOT, so I'd end up having several cigarettes a day whenever I stayed over there -- so much so that I'd have to turn down her offers to avoid getting sick from smoking too much.
So in the latter period of being 15 years old, I had just returned to school from being sick for over a week. I obviously hadn't had a cigarette in well over a week, either, but never paid it much thought since I was really, really sick and a cigarette was the last thing I wanted (especially since I wasn't particularly addicted back then...or so I thought). My first day back, I spent "homeroom," time with one of my math teachers to catch up on the work I missed. About halfway through our private session -- out of absolutely nowhere -- I suddenly had a huge, HUGE craving for a cigarette. It was bad, and I had never experienced an actual, physical craving before. The moment it entered my head, it wouldn't leave. I couldn't focus. I didn't WANT a cigarette -- I NEEDED a cigarette.
But it was still morning. I had several hours before I'd go home and it would be at least another several hours after that before I could have an opportunity to smoke after my parents went to bed. I knew I wouldn't make it. The craving was too intense. I started feigning a "relapse," of my illness during our session, coughing and all that. Just as planned, my teacher suggested I go see the school nurse who expectedly played it safe and suggested I go home for the day. My dad was out of town and my mom wouldn't be back in town until later that evening, so after informing my mom I was still feeling sick and was told to go home, she suggested I call my friend's mom to come pick me up, which was exactly what I wanted. When she arrived to get me, I got in the car and immediately explained what I was really up to. She thought it was hilarious, said something like, "So you had your first actual craving for a cigarette. I know what that's like. How does it feel to officially be a smoker?"
I had to wait until we drove a good distance away from campus and even though it only took a couple of minutes, it felt like forever since her car reeked of cigarettes, which only made me more antsy for one. As soon as we were at a safe distance, she got her pack, gave me one, and I lit up immediately. One of the best cigarettes I ever had. It was the first time I chainsmoked, too, since I lit up another one as soon as I was done with the first. I spent the whole day over there smoking until I had to go home.
Somewhat oddly, I didn't really get cravings like that very often afterwards. I suspect it was because I had gone over a week without a cigarette which was the longest I had gone without one in almost a year, smoking at least one or two every 2-4 days. After that day, however, I made sure to keep that pace up so I didn't have a super strong craving in the middle of school again, which eventually led to me smoking 1-2 cigarettes a day by 16, several a day by 17, and damn near a pack a day by 18.
-----------------------------------------------------------
AWS (How Quickly did you become a devoted smoker after your first cigarette)
It took a few years after my first cigarette to become a regular smoker. I grew up around smoking and remember thinking as a kid long before ever trying a cigarette that maybe I'd like to be a smoker. So many adults in my life were smokers and they seemed to love it, so why not me?
I tried my first cigarette at 12 or 13 years old. I stole one out of my parent's pack and was by myself. I didn't like it at all. But I persevered, believing there had to be something to smoking that I just wasn't getting. After all, if it was truly as bad as I thought it was after that very first cigarette, who the hell would ever smoke?
It was a while before I tried it again. Back then, I frequently had opportunities to steal a cigarette, smoke it and get away with it. Our house was smoke-friendly and I knew where my parent's packs and cartons were and knew there'd often be half-full packs scattered around somewhere and that they'd never notice a missing cigarette or two. Still, at the time I didn't take those opportunities as often as I could have for whatever reason. Maybe I was just nervous or afraid that I'd never like it and the "fantasy" of one day being a smoker would never come true.
But eventually I gave it another shot maybe a year or so later. Same circumstances. Home alone for a while, accessible cigarettes, etc. I tried it again and I suppose it was marginally better since I at least knew what to expect. It wasn't until my third or fourth cigarette that I realized I wasn't inhaling and that was when things really began to turn. Obviously inhaling changed everything. It made the taste more bearable and brought with it a physical/relaxing effect. The nicotine punch meant I wasn't able to finish those next few cigarettes after I started inhaling for fear of getting sick but even so, it got to the point where I not only didn't mind the taste, but I actually started to like it.
It was shortly before I turned 15 that I went a little further and stole a whole, fresh pack from my parent's cartons and hid it near my room upstairs. I still wasn't smoking as much as I could've despite having even easier access to cigarettes quite literally whenever I wanted, but there would sometimes be a stretch of 3-4 days where I'd smoke one cigarette each night after I knew my parents were asleep and then there would be stretches of a week or more where I never even bothered to smoke at all.
A while after I had turned 15, however, I had smoked enough cigarettes to at least be comfortable with it. I was far from addicted and was far from smoking daily, but I was taking advantage of the opportunities I had to smoke more often. Almost every time I had the house to myself for any stretch of time, I'd smoke. This was usually during the weekends or during holiday breaks from school (including summer). The next major step came around this time when one of my friend's mom caught me smoking. It's a story I've told around here before so I won't rehash it in detail again, but long story short, she was a (heavy) smoker herself, found it amusing that I was smoking, and agreed to keep it a secret and let me smoke with her, occasionally either buying me cigarettes or giving me a pack or two from her carton. I really enjoyed being able to smoke freely and openly with her, so during those moments I'd smoke more than I usually would. Despite that, my usual smoking habit didn't really change at all. I'd still go stretches of several days without smoking and then hit a stretch where I'd smoke at least one or two a day.
This trend continued for a while. I was still self-conscious about it and determined to hide it from my parents. However, more and more of my friends were starting to know me as a smoker (to some extent) and I was just one of many friends who had taken it up as well. Once I had my own car, I'd smoke when I went to parties and the like. I started dating a girl who was a regular smoker and an open one at that since her mom (also a smoker) knew she smoked and allowed it. But the aforementioned trend was still the norm, for the most part. At this point I considered myself a "smoker," but I wasn't smoking regularly and didn't feel I was addicted.
It was sometime after turning 17 that I really took that "final step," though it wasn't intentional. I started having more and more of a "fuck it," attitude about when and where I'd smoke. I'd smoke in my car on my way home from school, run up to my room and sneak a cigarette after dinner, smoke a cigarette before bed, etc. Again, my house was smoke-friendly so it wasn't exactly hard to go upstairs, smoke and have my parents be none the wiser, but I still would only smoke either in the guest bathroom at the far end of the upstairs area or the guest bedroom, both places where my parents were least likely to go if they ever went upstairs in the first place. But after turning 17, I pretty much threw caution to the wind and would just smoke anywhere upstairs, be it in my room or the upstairs living area, etc. When my mom went to bed I'd flip on the TV upstairs and relax on the couch and smoke a cigarette or two casually with the door open and everything. I started waking up needing a cigarette and would eagerly smoke one in the car on the way to school. I'd sneak to my car during lunch break to smoke. I started spending more time upstairs than I usually would so I could smoke. I realized I was fully addicted, constantly thinking about my next cigarette when I had gone without one for a while. I looked forward to and savored each one. I began making sure I had a sufficient amount of cigarettes on me at any given time to hold me over until I could get more. It was crucial, as I thought about how terrible it'd be if I ran out and didn't have absolutely immediate access to a cigarette or two when I really needed one.
At that point, I knew it was only a matter of time until I would be caught, so I took the initiative one day after coming home from school and straight up told my mom. She wasn't happy, but she was a smoker and had started smoking around my age (back when that was totally okay and acceptable) and knew she couldn't rightfully stop me. With my habit now out in the open and with the green light given to me, the rest was history. I was easily at about a pack a day a few months before I turned 18. I'd smoke openly in public no matter where I was because fuck it, who cares? What's someone going to do, tell my parents? Gradually more and more people in my life came to know me as a smoker, from my family to more of my friends to my friends' parents, our housekeeper and hell even (at least) one of my high school teachers. I loved it. It felt liberating and I love thinking back on it to this day (hence this long post).
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