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Date Posted: 20:22:46 08/13/22 Sat
Author: Curious
Author Host/IP: 120.159.212.179
Subject: Re: Story Inspiration Sources (The AWS Material, Part Five)
In reply to: Curious 's message, "Story Inspiration Sources (Relaunch)" on 03:11:00 03/06/22 Sun
Part Five, see part one for introduction.
-------------------------
AWS (Parents Finding Out)
Well, I'm not a parent, but MY parents weren't surprised when they found out I smoked. Funny story, too.
The first time either of my parents tried to accuse me of smoking when I was 16 (specifically, my mom), they thought they had busted me with irrefutable evidence when, in fact, they hadn't.
I had only recently gotten my first car. One evening on a saturday night, I went to hang out with some friends. It had been raining all day and had finally cleared up. I was showing them my new car and a few of my friends were smoking. Now, I had "started" smoking by this point, but it wasn't an everyday thing yet. I was still very serious about sports, so I tried to keep smoking as an intermittent thing whenever possible. This particular evening, I had only had a single cigarette after we had all eaten dinner at a local place.
However, since it had been raining all day, my car was wet. As I was showing it to my friends (again, some of whom were smoking), I suppose some of them were close enough to my car that the ash from their cigarettes flew onto it and as anyone who smokes knows, ash will leave "streaks" on your car when it's raining and/or when your car is wet. They are easily cleaned, but they will stay there if you don't and stand out VERY clearly on black cars in particular.
I didn't know this at the time, nor did I notice the streak marks. The next day, my mom tried to accuse me of smoking when she noticed those ash streaks on my car. At first, I found the whole situation hilarious, because I hadn't smoked in my car yet, nor was I responsible for those marks, but all evidence otherwise pointed towards me. "Just my luck," kind of thing. Eventually, I was able to convince her after I told her it was my friends and not me, and after I dropped a couple of names of friends who she wasn't surprised were already smokers, she relented, though was probably still at least somewhat suspicious.
So, when I finally told her that I smoked about a year and a half later, she admitted she wasn't surprised. She asked me again about the "incident" with the ash streaks on my car, and I reassured her that I was actually telling the truth about that particular instance. I did not tell her that I had at least tried smoking before, that I did have the occasional cigarette back then, etc., but I was being honest with her at the time, just not with the full truth. And I told her that I was being honest and forthcoming with her precisely because of that little incident.
Of course, she said she couldn't really be surprised and that she always had the suspicion that I would be a smoker in the back of her mind, which is why she was so quick to accuse me of it earlier. It's like she was just anticipating the moment and when saw what she thought to be the first evidence that said moment had already come, she had pretty much convinced herself without thinking of other possibilities or explanations. She smoked as I was growing up, as did my dad. They quit several times throughout my youth, up to two years. Whenever they "quit," it wasn't just for a few days; it always lasted at least close to a year, so those times when they quit were somewhat substantial rather than half-assed attempts.
Still, they always went back to it. It didn't help that a lot of our family members who visited and stayed with us also smoked, including one of my aunts, two of my cousins, my older sister, one of my mom's lifelong childhood friends, etc. It didn't help that many of my friend's parents smoked (in fact, one of my friend's moms had found out I smoked around the same time my mom thought she busted me). It certainly didn't help that the neighbor who I hung out with most in our neighborhood -- a girl my age, who lived right next door -- had parents who both smoked. I was surrounded by it my entire life. My mom even mentioned that I had stopped complaining about people smoking around me when I was still really young, which I found interesting because I still can't remember ever complaining about people smoking. I actually LIKED being around it. I liked the smell.
Ultimately, she said she couldn't be upset with me for smoking. She had started smoking around my age back then and raised me around it fully aware of how it might influence my attitude towards smoking. To be fair, not everyone raised around smoking actually starts smoking or finds a certain affinity for it. My friend, in fact, whose mom had been the first adult to find out about my smoking and let me smoke with her, still isn't a smoker to this day despite being raised around it his entire life like I was.
That said, being raised around it does make it more likely that you'll be predisposed to the habit, I think, even if only slightly so. I certainly don't mind. I love it and was glad to be honest and open about it after keeping it secret for so long.
----------------------------
AWS (How did you feel when your children started smoking)
Not a parent, but an interesting tidbit from my youth.
Back in high school around 16 years old, I entered what would be my first ever serious, long-term relationship. I wasn't a "regular" smoker yet, but I had grown to the point where I thoroughly enjoyed smoking and would typically smoke whenever I could. It was still something I kept secret from most people.
The girl I started dating, however, was already a full-time, nearly pack-a-day smoker. I've mentioned it on here before, but when we first started dating, I was surprised at how bold she was with when and where she smoked given our age. She never cared who saw her. She'd smoke anywhere in public, adults be damned. She'd even occasionally light up in restaurants when we went on dinner dates at places that allowed smoking.
I soon learned it was because her single mom -- a smoker herself -- already knew her daughter smoked and, in fact, knew from the beginning. Unlike the majority of kids/teenagers (especially today), my then-girlfriend didn't start smoking behind her mom's back. Instead, it was just the opposite. A little less than a year before we met, she had asked her mom one evening if she could try one of her cigarettes. According to her, her mom was quite reluctant, but ultimately decided that if her daughter was bold enough to ask her up front, that she'd probably end up trying it on her own accord if she turned her down, so better that she encourage her honesty in that regard.
The rest was basically history. Certainly, her mom had reservations about her daughter smoking as most parents understandably would regardless if they smoke themselves, but at the same time, her mom admitted that she loved how it allowed her and her daughter to bond on a different level. Even today at 30 years old, those two had one of the best and healthiest mother-daughter relationships I've ever seen. They were best friends, but her mom still played the mother when she needed to, set rules and boundaries as any parent should and reacted accordingly whenever her daughter violated them, which was rare. Whenever I was at their house, I was jealous that not only was my girlfriend able to smoke openly and freely in her own house (though I did enjoy being able to do so as well), but that she had a certain relationship with her mother that I wish I had with either of my parents. At that point in my life, I had never seen a high school kid be able to be so open and honest with a parent.
It's not the only instance I've seen either where a smoking parent finds that they are able to suddenly bond with their son or daughter much more once it is out in the open. It's a double-edged sword, I suppose.
---------------------------------
AWS (Parents Finding Out)
Both my parents smoked, but I kept my smoking a secret after I started. However, I started dating a girl in high school who was already a regular smoker -- more so than I was -- and was uncharacteristically open about it for a 16 year old. Seriously, she didn't care who saw her at a time when most kids our age always tried to do it away from prying eyes. There were days when I picked her up from school and she'd light up the second she got in the car, not a care in the world whether a teacher or someone saw her.
I quickly found out why. It was because her mom smoked and knew she smoked, so my girlfriend was free to smoke openly in her own house, even around her mom. This was mind blowing to me at the time. It was also awesome, because that meant I could smoke openly whenever I was at her house as well. I'll never forget the first time it happened. One night, her mom cooked us dinner when we were hanging out together. After dinner, her mom retrieved an ashtray, sat back down at the table and lit up a cigarette.
Keep in mind, at this point she didn't know I smoked, nor had we discussed my attitude towards smoking. But she must've known I didn't mind at the least since I was dating her daughter. Anyway, my girlfriend lit up, too, and then her mom paused and asked if I smoked. When I said I did, she offered me one of her cigarettes, so it was the first time I got to smoke openly around an adult.
We dated for almost two years total, and I quickly got used to being able to smoke openly at my girlfriend's house. We'd be sitting on the couch watching TV, smoking, and wouldn't even have to panic when her mom came home from work. She'd sometimes go out and buy us packs. She actually bought me a whole carton for my birthday once (as a mutual gift from both her and my girlfriend).
I had also begun experimenting with cigars. Real cigars, not the cheap ones. One day, my girlfriend mentioned over the phone that her mom had just gotten a big promotion at work. So before I went over that evening, I stopped at a local tobacco shop which had a reputation for not ever ID'ing and bought two nice cigars. I gave one to her mom as a congratulations for the promotion and we both actually smoked them that night.
Needless to say, all that time being able to smoke openly at my girlfriend's house made me wish I could do so in my own house as well, so it wasn't long before I just outright told my parents. They weren't happy, obviously, but they smoked too, so they couldn't say much.
--------------------------------
AWS (What Made You Start)
Was always curious. Both my parents smoked growing up, and since this was in the 80s and 90s, not only would they smoke in the house, but any time we went anywhere, dinner or whatever, they'd smoke there, too.
So, one day I tried it when I had the house to myself (13 or 14 years old). Had no idea what I was doing, didn't like it. I still persevered, though, and a few months later knew how to enjoy a cigarette.
Didn't become a regular smoker until I started dating this girl in high school. She was already a regular smoker and even better, her mom smoked and knew she smoked, too. I had long suspected at that point that the only reason I didn't smoke regularly was because I still had to be sneaky about it. Once I started dating this girl, I didn't have to be nearly as sneaky about it. I could smoke openly any time I went to her house, even if her mom was home, and she'd usually just smoke with us.
I remember the first time it happened. One night her mom cooked dinner for us, and after we all finished eating, she retrieved an ashtray, sat back down at the table and lit a cigarette. My girlfriend joined her. Her mom didn't know I smoked yet, so she offered me one of her cigarettes and I gladly accepted.
After getting used to that, it wasn't long until I just straight up told my parents and started smoking openly back at home.
AWS (Did any other adults find out about your smoking before your parents?)
Hey guys, new around here, thought I'd share my own story about how I was "found out" as a smoker when I was in high school.
First, some background:
My parents both smoked as I was growing up. I grew up very fortunate with my dad making a great living for the family. This being in the 80s and 90s, smoking indoors was everywhere, even if not as much as years prior. So, my parents often smoked in the house -- usually in the living room, which was large and open enough that the smell of cigarettes never lingered for very long, even without the use of air freshener.
It was inevitable that I'd eventually try smoking, I suppose. I had my first cigarette around 13 or 14 years old. My mom went out to dinner one night while my dad was out of town, so I had the house to myself for a while. I used the opportunity to steal a cigarette from an opened pack where my parents kept their cartons. Since I knew I had plenty of time, I smoked right there in the living room. I hated it, largely because I didn't know what to expect and had no idea what I was doing.
But I persisted. A few weeks later, I stole a whole pack from the carton and spent the next month or so practicing, determined to find out what all the fuss was about with smoking. My parents smoked, my sister smoked, my cousin smoked, my aunt smoked. They all smoked and they all loved it. Why not me?
By the time I got through that pack, I had no only gotten rather comfortable smoking a cigarette, but had begun enjoying it. Still, at the time, that was enough for me. I just wanted to prove to myself that I could be a smoker as well, I suppose.
But of course, that wasn't the end of it. Over the next couple years, I'd steal a pack every now and then and smoke periodically whenever I knew I could get away with it. Honestly, I probably could've gotten away with it a lot more often than I did, but I was incredibly secretive about it generally; not just where my parents were concerned. No one knew I had tried smoking, not even my friends (at least a couple of who had already started).
Since I was so picky about when I'd smoke, these packs would last me a month or two on average. Even so, with every pack, the more I began enjoying my cigarettes. I started liking the taste, even.
When I was 16, I started dating a girl who had already been an actual, addicted smoker for at least a year. What's more, she didn't even look like the "smoking" type (as teenagers would perceive it back then). She had an athletic build, was very, very pretty, and often wore glasses. We were absolutely infatuated with each other, and she was the first person I ever told about my own smoking. Although I wasn't a smoker per se (I could easily go a day or two without a cigarette, if not more), it was starting to inch its way towards a daily habit.
I always wondered why she was so comfortable with smoking openly at our age. Seriously, this chick did not care who saw her. If I picked her up from school, she'd light up as soon as she got in the car, teachers be damned. If we went to see a movie, she'd light up as soon as we stepped outside the theater. She was so comfortable with it.
Well, I soon found out why. Her mom smoked too. Not only did she know of her daughter smoking, she didn't even find out by "busting" her one day. My girlfriend told me that one night about a year before we met each other, she and her mom were watching a movie together, her mom lit up a cigarette, and my girlfriend spontaneously asked if she could have one, too. She had never tried it at that point. Since her mom had started smoking around her age, she let her try one. She said she didn't like it at first, but would occasionally ask her mom for one just for the hell of it and before she knew it, she was smoking regularly.
So, any time I went to my girlfriend's house -- which was pretty often -- I was just as free to smoke as she was. It was crazy for me, at the time. We could go to her house after school, watch TV while smoking and not even have to worry about her mom coming home. A few times her mom would cook us dinner, and we'd all smoke at the table after eating, casually chatting, etc. Her mom would sometimes go buy us cigarettes and even bought me a carton for my birthday.
But what really "outed" me as a smoker came from another situation. One weekend while both of my parents were out of town, I was home alone, bored as hell, watching TV. I had been smoking a couple cigarettes and enjoying the rare freedom of smoking in my own house when I heard the doorbell ring. My heart sank as I saw my best friend's mom peering through the front door, trying to see if anyone was home. My mom had forgotten to tell me that my friend's mom would be coming by to borrow some clothes.
I went into panic mode. I hoped that since she was a smoker, she wouldn't notice the smell. And since she had no need to come into the living room, maybe I shouldn't be concerned. Unfortunately, after retrieving some clothes, she asked to use our house phone, which was located in the living room. Before we even got there, she made some exaggerated sniffs and remarked that my parents must smoke in here, and asked if she could have a cigarette. I didn't stop her, of course, but I was incredibly nervous that I'd be found out.
After hanging up the phone, she asked if I wanted a ride back to her house so I could hang out with my buddy. Still bored out of my mind, I gladly accepted her offer. After getting in the car and buckling up for the 20 minute ride, it happened.
She awkwardly reached behind the driver's seat for her purse. I grabbed it for her and handed it to her, knowing full well she was looking for her cigarettes. She fumbled around with the purse in her lap while keeping her eyes on the road. I'll never forget what happened next. After a few moments with no success, she said, "I hate to ask, but could you find my cigarettes for me? They're somewhere in there."
At this point, I was really conflicted. All the nerves I had from being surprised by her arrival were really making me crave a cigarette, but then again, I didn't want to be busted by someone who was so close to my own mom. As such, I found her pack of Benson and Hedges, her lighter, and handed both to her. She thanked me, lit up, and handed them back to me. Just as I was putting them back in her purse, that's when she said it. She sighed, smiled ever so slightly, and said, "And I guess you can have one too, if you want."
My mind got tangled. I was speechless. It felt like it took me an hour to process what she had just said. Surely she must've been talking about something else and I'm just so focused on cigarettes that I thought she was talking about them. Or surely I just misheard her. Nope. Before I could find my words, she said, "Come on. You don't think I know you smoke? I could smell it, you know. You had just finished smoking a cigarette before I showed up, didn't you?"
Instead of having a stern or patronizing tone, she said it in a friendly, understanding manner, which further put me off guard. Still struggling to find my words, she chuckled and said, "If I was going to tell on you, do you really think I'd offer you a cigarette? Go ahead, have one. Your secret is safe with me as long as you don't tell anyone I let you smoke."
"Fair enough," I finally managed to say. So, I took one of her Benson and Hedges and lit up right then and there. It was such a liberating, if somewhat awkward, feeling. I was smoking openly with an adult, more on my own terms than I had before around my girlfriend's mom.
We discussed it; how and why I started smoking, how long, etc. Since we were talking so openly, she took a couple of detours on the way to her house, giving us both enough time to smoke another couple of cigarettes. We decided that we'd keep it a secret from my parents, my buddy (her son), and pretty much everyone else, although she insisted I at least tell my mom because, as she put it, "If she doesn't already know, she'd probably just rather you be honest."
Over the next couple of years, she became my first "smoking buddy." Any time I was at my friend's house, she'd ask me to join her for a cigarette. Likewise whenever I was in the car with her. It took a few months before my friend found out about it, but he just shrugged it off since he didn't smoke. There was a stretch of four days where I stayed at their house while my parents were out of town, and since I didn't have my own car yet, my buddy's mom would pick me up from school (we went to different schools). She had asked me what brand I smoked, and since I wasn't 18 yet, I told her I just took packs from my parents, which were ML Ultra Lights. She somewhat jokingly said those were "gross" and promised to get me packs of something "much better."
That first day she picked me up from school, I got in the car and as soon as we were a good distance from the school itself, she handed me a whole carton of Benson and Hedges, which I had grown rather fond of since I always smoked those around her. She told me not to tell anyone, obviously, since my friend got out of school almost an hour after me, and she told me that I'd better have a good hiding spot back at home (which I did).
In retrospect, I think she was so accepting of my smoking because, other than my own mom, she didn't have any friends who smoked. Her sister smoked, but she lived several states away, so by her own admission, she always felt like a bit of an outcast around her nonsmoking friends. So, I'm sure she enjoyed having a smoker for regular company.
To this day, I'll often treat myself to a pack of Benson and Hedges when I have some extra money lying around and am reminded of those days when I was first able to smoke openly around adults. And thanks to her, it wasn't long before I did admit to my mom that I smoked, who somewhat reluctantly accepted it.
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