When I think about things in life I experimented with and lived, “cigarettes” owe my God, like crawling along while being whipped when I quit. O k maybe not that bad but bad. First time I quit I had a sign made for my credenza that read,
“No smoking oxygen in use.” Clever,eh whatever. So that very week I had a visit from a rail company salesman. As we chatted he pulled out his pack of cigarettes, then he looked at my sign and politely asked if he could smoke. Well of course being this super strong willed guy I replied , no problem. He didn’t immediately open the package but kind of twirled it in his hands. I
knew what was in that package, cigarettes, oh my God. Then finally he opened the pack and extracted a cigarette, tapping it on the pack as he closed it. Then he ran the cigarette up and down between his hands.
I got to wondering if he was just going to make love to this cigarette or actually smoke the bloody thing. Then he pulled out his liter and flicked open the cap, with a huge breath he inhaled and exhaled a cloud of smoke.
That was a defining moment for me, No more smoking allowed in my office and Thank God I quit.