Adventures of a Non-Smoking Smoker – Day 1

DAY 1

The decision had already been taken so as I raised my elbow and flicked my last fag end into the gutter a million happy smoked filled images passed through my mind, I was sad but at the same time proud of what I had done or more appropriately what I was intending to keep on not doing.

Only a few minutes had passed and I was already battling with the thought of not being able to do it again, this wasn’t a physical thing as I still had plenty of nicotine floating around my body to last at least another 30 minutes, this was psychological, I was starting to cave-in even before I had started or should I say stopped.

I had to do something drastic, I looked around and saw a taxi heading my way. I waved it down, jumped in and concentrated hard on the non smoking sign stuck on the back of the driver’s seat.

“Where to mate?” asked the driver, I thought for a minute and muttered the first non smoking destination I could think of, “the airport”. The taxi pulled up outside the airport, I paid and quickly made my way into the terminal building where large non smoking signs and armed police were very visible.

This was just the mental support I needed to help get me through this difficult first stage and as the armed policeman passed by I looked at the no-smoking sign then looked at the armed policeman, smiled and contemplated the notion that in the long term smoking kills but there’s no point getting shot for it now.

45 minutes had passed since my last fag end hit the gutter and although I had found a good method of coping with the mental pressures the nicotine was starting to run out and the physical effects starting to set in.

My hands started to tremble and I was becoming agitated, I tried concentrating on the armed policeman and the non smoking signs but it was no good, my will power was cracking and I needed something stronger to help get me through.

Luckily just as I was about to get up and pop outside for a cigarette the armed policeman I had been smiling at and a couple of his colleagues came over. I tried to explain that I was here for non smoking reasons; they nodded, smiled politely and accompanied me to a small non smoking room where I was body searched; luckily they didn’t find any cigarettes

After questioning me for a few hours they said that I could go but if I wasn’t catching a flight then I had to leave the airport. Although I was mad at the way a perfectly law abiding citizen had been treated I was grateful to them for having stopped me smoking for a few more hours.

I knew that outside the safety of a non smoking airport I couldn’t guarantee my actions so I headed straight to the bookings desk and asked for the cheapest ticket to a non smoking country. The young lady at the ticket counter said that there was no such thing as a non smoking country, although many countries, including this one, had banned smoking from public places such as bars, museums, public libraries, government buildings and most work places.

That wasn’t any good, I was already in a country that had banned smoking from public places, I needed a country where cigarettes were impossible to get; besides currently I’m unemployed, illiterate, don’t drink and never go to museums.

“You’re trying to give up smoking aren’t you luv, I gave up years ago” she said, then she looked me up and down and said “ I don’t know about non smoking counties but I’ve got a non smoking flat if you fancy going there, I’m of duty in 10 minutes.“

I was flabbergasted, I had given up smoking for only a few hours and already I was more attractive to women, maybe all those smoking facts were true after all and soon my breath will smell of roses, I’ll grow a few more inches, my skin will look younger and I’ll be able to make love for hours on end or at least without having to take cough sweets.

She was an experienced non smoker who knew what it meant giving up; I was susceptible and a little confused, was she offering to help me give up smoking or was she was trying to take advantage of my new, young, tall, fresh smelling body. I needed help to give up smoking so I decided to take the chance.

Alas after talking to her I realised it was all a sales pitch, she owned a flat in a non smoking complex in the south of France, miles away from anywhere, hence I wouldn’t be able to buy cigarettes. All of a sudden I didn’t feel quite so tall and considering the distance she was standing from me I started to wonder if six hours of interrogation in a small room had negated the aromatic benefits of non smoking.

Luckily, I was wrong; being an ex-smoker she was genuinely interested in helping me, she even confirmed my suspicions that I would have smelt and looked a lot worse if I hadn’t given up, this made me feel better, the non-smoking benefits were real! In fact she made me feel so good that I demanded that she let me use her non smoking flat for at least 4 weeks.

Gosh, was she organised, the next thing I knew I had been checked in and out of several places, including my bank account, my tailors, the local baths and gate number 23. I was non smoking in a south of France airport although I wasn’t sure which one.

Now my French isn’t very good, so maybe that’s why the passport officer reacted so badly when I told him that the motive of my visit was for smoking reasons. I was escorted to a small non smoking room where this time a Frenchman armed with a deadly garlic breath ( gosh I wish I still had my smokers breath to counteract it) interrogated me for several hours before letting me go. Again although I was mad at the way a perfectly law abiding visitor had been treated I was grateful to them for having stopped me smoking for a few more hours.

It had been more that 16 hours since my last cigarette, 12 of which had been spent in custody, I couldn’t go on this way. Pointless giving up smoking if you can’t enjoy life, especially now that I was a fresh breath sensation.

I looked around and to my horror there was a small smoking area at 50 meters from me. I quickly made my way out, jumped in a taxi and gave the driver the address of the non smoking flat.

After nearly three hours of driving the taxi pulled into the courtyard of what seemed like an old abandoned farmhouse. This must be it said the driver; the name of the area is right and there aren’t any other buildings in this area for miles, so it must be this one. As I got out an old woman appeared and begged me to follow her. I paid the taxi, got my luggage and followed her.

Just around the corner there was a very nicely renovated barn building, the old lady showed me in, gave me the front door key but before I had a chance to ask any questions, she had gone. Oh well, I’ll catch up with her later I thought. So there I was, in the middle of nowhere without any cigarettes and no way of getting any, dam I feel like a cigarette, oh well nothing for it but to go to bed and wait to see what the next non smoking day brings.