Observations of Smoking by a Non-Smoker
Observations Of Smoking By A Non-Smoker
There are many different types of smokers. Chain smokers, Stress smokers, Sex smokers.
Teenagers who scrap a few bucks to have a cigarette at recess. Kids who pressure other kids to smoke to feel better about themselves, to forget that with each drag, they're drowning in tar.
By experience, I know nothing of nicotine or the sensation of a craving. Does it catch your attention like the tick tock of a clock? Or the glint of light reflecting off a mirror in the late afternoon, when the sun is tired and burning amber.
Does it pick lightly at the base of your mind, before moving to the back of your skull, starting to scratch until it's clawing at the back of your eyes, making them water and jerk around in their sockets.
Does it make your fingertips itch and your knuckles whiten? Does it make the hair on the back of our neck stand on edge as you fumble through pockets and handbags for that small little box of calm.
The 40 sticks of tobacco sitting all in place like little soldiers with tan coloured boots and white uniforms. Standing in attention, waiting for their heads to be burned by the captain. A short, stocky general with broad shoulders and a ping in his voice who wears all his clothes shiny and sleek. A standard looking general with no hat, dressed in bright colours and white on the soles of his shoes. Or even, in rare cases these days, a tall, thin general with tan coloured suedes and a red face from too much shouting. Be careful or he could blow his top and become a real fire head.
The general strikes each soldier on the head and sends them on their way to burn. Burn right down to their little tan boots. The subtle click, when translated into English says, "Release your souls in a wisp of foul silver and calm the population."
In my so far short time on this earth, I have had the honor of witnessing hundreds of people close their lips around a cigarette. I'm still contemplating weather it's an art form or a routine.
Technique one: The cup.
When one takes a cigarette and puts it to their mouth, they cup their hands around the tip and light up. Obviously, shielding the flame from going out. When this is carried out, the person may squint as the orange glow illuminates their face. When the cigarette is lit, the subject disposes of the lighter in their pocket quickly and takes a drag, exhaling quickly. Often looking down at the ground and back up, flicking ash and scuffing their shoe over the ground.
Technique two: The scratch.
In this technique, the smoker will hold the cigarette in their fingers, scissor style and will use their hands for emphasis when they talk. If they are reading something such as a script or a TV guide, they will hold the piece of writing in the same hand as the cigarette, using their free fingers and thumb to balance the two objects. Their other hand will perhaps balance their resting chin, draped along the back of a couch. The name of this technique comes from the definite itch the smoker scratches above their eyebrow. Done with the same hand as the cigarette.
Technique three: The flick
After the cigarette is lit and the smoker has taken a drag or two, the cigarette is placed back between the lips and may stay there for the duration of the smoke. The subject will balance the stick loosely on their bottom lip as they talk, causing it to flick up and down.
This small document was going to be short, sweet and nagging. Just like my idea of a nicotine craving. But, alas it has turned into something long and dabbling, full of large words and poorly executed sentences.
I must finish here oh so suddenly as this is the end of my knowledge. If I were a smoker, I would gladly write more. But, I am not.
This is the observations of smoking by a non-smoker.
Teenagers who scrap a few bucks to have a cigarette at recess. Kids who pressure other kids to smoke to feel better about themselves, to forget that with each drag, they're drowning in tar.
By experience, I know nothing of nicotine or the sensation of a craving. Does it catch your attention like the tick tock of a clock? Or the glint of light reflecting off a mirror in the late afternoon, when the sun is tired and burning amber.
Does it pick lightly at the base of your mind, before moving to the back of your skull, starting to scratch until it's clawing at the back of your eyes, making them water and jerk around in their sockets.
Does it make your fingertips itch and your knuckles whiten? Does it make the hair on the back of our neck stand on edge as you fumble through pockets and handbags for that small little box of calm.
The 40 sticks of tobacco sitting all in place like little soldiers with tan coloured boots and white uniforms. Standing in attention, waiting for their heads to be burned by the captain. A short, stocky general with broad shoulders and a ping in his voice who wears all his clothes shiny and sleek. A standard looking general with no hat, dressed in bright colours and white on the soles of his shoes. Or even, in rare cases these days, a tall, thin general with tan coloured suedes and a red face from too much shouting. Be careful or he could blow his top and become a real fire head.
The general strikes each soldier on the head and sends them on their way to burn. Burn right down to their little tan boots. The subtle click, when translated into English says, "Release your souls in a wisp of foul silver and calm the population."
In my so far short time on this earth, I have had the honor of witnessing hundreds of people close their lips around a cigarette. I'm still contemplating weather it's an art form or a routine.
Technique one: The cup.
When one takes a cigarette and puts it to their mouth, they cup their hands around the tip and light up. Obviously, shielding the flame from going out. When this is carried out, the person may squint as the orange glow illuminates their face. When the cigarette is lit, the subject disposes of the lighter in their pocket quickly and takes a drag, exhaling quickly. Often looking down at the ground and back up, flicking ash and scuffing their shoe over the ground.
Technique two: The scratch.
In this technique, the smoker will hold the cigarette in their fingers, scissor style and will use their hands for emphasis when they talk. If they are reading something such as a script or a TV guide, they will hold the piece of writing in the same hand as the cigarette, using their free fingers and thumb to balance the two objects. Their other hand will perhaps balance their resting chin, draped along the back of a couch. The name of this technique comes from the definite itch the smoker scratches above their eyebrow. Done with the same hand as the cigarette.
Technique three: The flick
After the cigarette is lit and the smoker has taken a drag or two, the cigarette is placed back between the lips and may stay there for the duration of the smoke. The subject will balance the stick loosely on their bottom lip as they talk, causing it to flick up and down.
This small document was going to be short, sweet and nagging. Just like my idea of a nicotine craving. But, alas it has turned into something long and dabbling, full of large words and poorly executed sentences.
I must finish here oh so suddenly as this is the end of my knowledge. If I were a smoker, I would gladly write more. But, I am not.
This is the observations of smoking by a non-smoker.
♠ ♠ ♠
A little different from my usual style of slash. :tehe:Wrote this after I had a strike of insperation.