What People Think About When They Smoke Funny

Anyone who'south read any of the pieces I've written for Thought Catalog knows that I accept, um, a history with substance abuse. I've done crack, cocaine, heroin, meth, acid, mushrooms, ketamine — well, the list is pointless. The betoken is that of all these drugs that I did — and quit using — the hardest of all to quit was smoking cigarettes. For that reason, if you're a smoker, some of the things I list here volition probably non seem that disgusting. Yet, in one case y'all quit, if you lot do quit, you'll see only how gross these behaviors are.

i. Simply smoking. And smoking and smoking and smoking. Usually, as a result of inebriation I would chainsmoke. Packs disappeared. I kept buying, and I kept smoking. After a few days of that, when I'd come off a bender, the tips of my alphabetize and middle fingers, and my thumb on my left hand were tinted yellow (also, not necessarily smoking related, I don't call back, but when you're all messed up like this it'due south impossible to keep your fingernails clean, and so there was always a scrim of black underneath them), my hair reeked. I ever thought information technology was the drugs and/or alcohol that fabricated me smoke like that. But I've known people who chainsmoke and who hardly e'er touch a drop of booze. That's how grossly powerful the tug is.

2. Smoking a cigarette first thing in the morning time. There'due south nothing like waking up after a night out at the bar with your buddies, or fighting with your bipolar girlfriend till the point that you say "f-ck it" and ditch her and purchase that twenty-four hours'south 2d pack of cigarettes after the gram of coke you lot also purchased in your giving upwardly in life, and after smoking all simply iii smokes in that pack, and you find the starting time of those three and low-cal upward. Your lungs are already wheezing. Y'all coughing, hock a brownish loogie flecked with black, sometimes with blood. Yous haven't brushed your teeth in a few days. That's one fine cigarette.

iii. The airport smoking lounge. This is a dank and depressing hovel fix away from normal people and filled with reeking rows of airport seating covered with pleather that has cured in the nicotine-drenched carbon monoxide atmosphere. There are air conditioners and "smoke eaters" running, just they exercise no good for the number of smokers huddled in this tiny room. If in that location are plants in this room to "cheer the joint upwards," the plants are dead or dying. Through the haze of smoke 1 might attempt to make out the images on the goggle box that floats somewhere overhead. The worst thing to see in a smoking lounge is families: mothers and fathers shushing their kids while said kids attempt desperately to entertain themselves in this toxic surroundings while mom and dad get their nic fix. You tin can imagine what these parents might expect like; they expect exactly what you'd think parents who accept their kids into the smoking lounge expect like: there'southward a lot of tanktops and/or musculus shirts and jean cutoffs and tattoos of Calvin pissing, or of Yosemite Sam flaunting his pistols complete with the "Stay Back!" epitaph. Both these kinds of tattoos can too exist constitute as stickers on these parents' vehicles. Here I am describing this with chagrin while there I sat, smoking my own cigarettes, in the haze that was my drug-befuddled brain, and ordinarily these parents would start talking to me and, at the time, I'd retrieve they were pretty cool in the end. The 2d worse thing to see is the old people, some of them carting oxygen tanks in those wheeled carts, and sucking their cigarettes while the tubes run from the tank to their olfactory organ. I'd watch these poor souls and hope that I wouldn't ever be i of them while I smoked myself into non caring about my inability to drum upwards the willpower to effort to keep myself live.

4. Sharing cigarettes with strangers. I'yard at the bus stop i twenty-four hours, and I've run out of smokes, and I've got a 30-minute ride to piece of work, which happens to be in an area where I'll need to walk a half-mile to the gas station where I can purchase a new pack. But at that place's a young woman, in fact, from this altitude she doesn't appear to be likewise bad looking, and she'due south smoking a cigarette. So I approach, ask if I can bum one. Alas, it's her last. But she cordially offers to share this last and already lit cigarette with me. Before I go on, allow me explain that I am maybe recently awakened from some nighttime sucking downward Jaegermeister till I did some fancy walking, and I'g not quite the fresh face myself. Merely it's but when I sit down next to this woman on the coach station bench and she passes me the cigarette, the barrel a little moist from her lips or her natural language or both, and as I'g taking a few drags I see her teeth, many of which are missing or in a country of decay. She's also 1 of those people whom you realize that when they talk, gobs of spit and fungus crowd up in the corners where her lips meet. She'southward got a severe overbite. She proceeds to tell you that she'south waiting for the bus that will take her to a job interview, her first in 18 months. She only got out of jail.

5. Sharing cigarettes with friends. All of the higher up details are nearly exactly the same with the exception of having already been well acquainted with the person with whom I was smoking.

vi. Whorl yr own. I don't mean with Bugler, or Bali Shag. I mean that it's 3 a.one thousand. and you've run out of cigarettes, but you're still a little drunk, or peradventure you lot're tripping or gacked or something, but you've got ashtrays full of butts and, lucky for yous, y'all're a drug user, so rolling papers are e'er within reach. Some jackass once told you that it was good for your plants if you put your butts into the soil, and you desire a cigarette bad enough to retrieve fifty-fifty these molding spent cigs, turning some shade betwixt green and blue. You lot crack all these open into a heap of stinking, mostly burnt tobacco that y'all ringlet into new cigarettes. This tastes exactly how you imagine it might taste. It tastes like shit, if shit tasted like previously smoked, multi-twenty-four hours-and-in-some-cases-multi-week-and-month-old cigarette tobacco. But you don't care; you've got your smoke at present and after you lot can pass out and later wake and, without showering or brushing your teeth, walk to the Texaco for a fresh pack.

7. Smoking butts institute on the basis or in public ashtrays. At least I had smoked almost of the butts I constitute in the ashtrays and in my planters around my flat. Just in that location were too many times when I found myself downwards to my last 10 dollars and I did what any sensible alcoholic would do with that money: I went to the bar. At the bar where I kicked it, PBRs were a dollar, so that meant ten beers (deplorable, no tip). And what to practice for smokes? I bummed some, but when that had run its form I reverted to scavenging the bar ashtrays. Sometimes I'd take that niggling bit of money to the convenience shop for forties, and then, while drinking and walking dorsum to my apartment, I scoured the sidewalks for butts that had at least a centimeter of unsmoked tobacco remaining. Anything more than a centimeter was a significant score. I recollect my buddy Mike one time exclaiming upon a merely half-smoked sidewalk cigarette, "Hell yes!" and nosotros shared that. So combine this layer of gross with layer #v higher up.

8. Drying out moisture cigarettes. I've done this, yep: jumped into the lake and, whoops, cigs still in pocket (along with wallet, lighter, keys, etc.). I'm that kind of idiot. I'm also the kind of idiot who's like, I ain't letting this full pack of smokes become to waste material. So I ready them in the sun, dried them out, and smoked them. They tasted like algae-flavored cigarettes.

9. Accidentally drinking from a beer-turned-ashtray. I recollect people have depicted this happening in movies. I'm non sure about that though. But I've done information technology. What's worse is non realizing that's what's happened until a few drinks in. What happens is you pick up a beer you call back is yours, or the political party'due south ended and there aren't any beers left, merely yous merely really demand one and you hunt up half-drunkard beers littering the coffee tables. That first sip is just a piffling flat, or at least that's all yous notice. Then you find a strange, almost metallic flavor. By the fourth dimension you take the sip that brings the cigarette butt(s) to the beer can's opening, where it comes up against your lips, maybe your teeth, and you finally realize what'due south going on, you've also realized that that flavor is of already-smoked-cigarette. I've thrown up because of this. I have also not thrown up and continued in my quest for office-drunk beers that did not go ashtrays.

ten. Relapsing. I quit smoking and doing drugs because I got tired of the life, and I was lonely, and I knew that if I wanted to run across a girl of the marrying type I was unlikely to find her in the bar crowds that I ran with. I stopped going to bars and so ofttimes. When I met my married woman I was "fume gratis." Those quotation marks are there because, like I said, I've never had and so much trouble quitting anything like I had trouble quitting nicotine. Every one time in a while — like at my brother'southward wedding ceremony, where I ran into some of my childhood friends who smoked — I'd bum a cigarette, smoke all or half of information technology, and disgust myself in the process.

I hate to sound all preachy, similar, I quit, and y'all're a loser for not seeing how gross that addiction is. What I mean is that I understand the pull that tobacco has on someone who's been using it for some fourth dimension. And because I've felt that, I'm also able to see what stupid and gross things that pull made me do. I'm in no "higher" a place for having quit. I still experience cigarettes tugging at my will. I tend to stay out of places that allow smoking, because a few drinks in I start to crave them, and with the booze I feel my willpower crumbling abroad. I'm an immensely weak person. If I only call back about the dumb and gross things I've done and could do once again, perchance I'll make this not smoking thing stick.

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Source: https://thoughtcatalog.com/jamie-iredell/2012/07/the-10-most-disgusting-things-i-ever-did-while-i-was-a-smoker/

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