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Smoking (hot) jeans

As a teenager, you always want to prove something to someone. It`s the nature of the business, so to speak. You are passed the age where your parents` authority goes uncontested, but you haven`t quite reached the point where you can look out for yourself and make reasonably good decisions. So you become your very own guinea pig and try out things you`ve heard from others on yourself and see how you fair.

One of the `big deals` in adolescence is smoking and whether or not you adopt it as a method of transgression in school. I have had a fascination with the act of smoking ever since I was a child. My father had quit smoking when I was still young, but I still found it an act of utter sophistication, having watched a lot of movies from the 30s and 40s with all the glamorous men and women smoking cigars. That thin, almost web-like smoke seemed so alluring.

So, when one of my classmates asked me and a few others in a hushed voice to come to a park nearby if we wanted to light one up, I joined them, a bit scared but thrilled.

We arrived and started passing the cigar around, coughing but acting like we could totally like that thing… after a few more tries, probably. Just as we were relaxing and started making fun of each other, we heard a familiar voice. It was one of our teachers who had seen us and wanted to know what we were up to and why haven`t we gone home after classes. As I had the cigar, I quickly tried to hide it… so I sat on it!

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Posted on July 25th, 2013 by mel

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