My friend Barbara asked me a few years back whether I consider myself a non-smoker or an ex-smoker, and I proudly said that I think, all these years later, that I consider myself a non-smoker.
She proceded to shoot down that self-appraisal and convinced me I'm an ex-smoker. And she was right. I am still very conscious of smoking. My last cigaret was (I think) May 20, 1987 -- I remember that because I was supposed to put a little sign in my ashtray at work to remind me.
The closest I ever came to smoking again was when a woman friend was spending the weekend with me. She was smoking -- this was a long time ago when people still smoked in a non- (or ex-) smoker's house. We were in deep serious conversation and it was about 2:30 in the morning and I could no longer listen to her as my eyes were focused on her cigaret.
When she left the next day, I remember pouring water on the ashtray so I wouldn't be tempted to smoke the butts. I know: disgusting.
Now when I see prices for cigarets in New York City, I almost can't believe my eyes -- close to 10 bucks a pack. I can't imagine it.
Anyway, tonight, returning from dinner with Stephanie, I sat out on my steps for a while and a man came out in the next building over and he was sitting on his steps in very deep thought smoking a cigaret and the smoke blew over to me and he was inhaling really deeply and it was the most I've wanted a cigaret in years. I couldn't take my eyes off him because I know that feeling where it's you and your cigaret and you're smoking unconsciously.
Of course, I am delighted I don't smoke, would never even consider smoking, or even taking one puff, but I was surprised how much I wanted a cigaret tonight, considering how long it's been since I've had one... didn't think the feeling could be that strong.
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