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Sometimes, things need changing in relationships. I've already spoken
once recently about changes, and how I started making them, but I've
taken that one step further. I've given up smoking.
Initially, I'm doing it for Stacey, who has never smoked and is actually
asthmatic. I'm not just doing it for her however. Should we end up
breaking up, I want to ensure that I die alone while suffering from
the cold shakes of living within an iron lung.
Absolutely nothing is going wrong with my relationship with Stacey.
I need to begin by saying that. Absolutely everything is going wrong
with the giving up of smoking.
First I said I was going to give up, and then I found three cigarettes
in an old box underneath my bed. I lit the cigarettes one by one,
savoring the rich, smoke as it entered my lungs, soothing my aching
blood, telling my brain "Never do this again."
When those were gone, the trouble began. I began by cutting myself
off from everyone I knew for five days. The reason was simple. As
the nicotine began to wear off from my body, things got a little hairy,
and I didn't want anyone to be around to see sweet, loveable Dave
look like GODZILLA.
The first day, seemed to go well. I brushed the dust off of my desktop
computer, and put my trusty laptop away. Laptop is for work, desktop
is for play. I popped in my Sims CD and began to build the perfect
life.
The best part about playing the Sims is that you can play for an entire
day and it only feels like you've played for fifteen minutes. The
worst part about playing the Sims, is that the Novelty of the matter
wears off after a day, and the second day, is even harder to get through
than the first.
I sat down and started playing the Sims for a second day, but quickly
got bored. I left the game running in avatar mode, which meant, that
things would carry on without me while I did other things. I decided
that my movie collection could use a good dusting off as well, and
began watching some of my classics. Midway through Almost Famous the
directors cut, I realized that I could do this. Smoking was as unnecessary
for me as that gallon of Mackinaw Island Creamery ice cream sitting
in my freezer.
Then I watched Blow.
The problem with watching a movie about addiction when you're going
cold turkey on your own addiction, is not the subject matter of the
movie. Not by a long shot. The problem with watching a movie about
addiction when you're going cold turkey on your own addiction is the
fact that every fucking scene in the movie has at least one person
smoking a cigarette. Not just any cigarette either, cigarettes that
make you Jones even harder for one yourself.
I shut the television off and decided it was time to restock the pantry,
so I went shopping. It was my first venture out into public since
I had declared the moratorium on people. I went to Meijers and began
walking the aisles for the basic necessities. Milk, cheese, eggs.
I rounded the corner into the paper products aisle and rammed straight
into an old lady's shopping cart.
Normally, when I'm impolite in public I'm not only embarrassed, but
extremely apologetic.
Today I simply smiled back at the lady, a nice, forced, smile complete
with "I'm living in a shack in the woods writing my manifesto"
smile, and pushed past her to throw some Ziplock Tupperware into my
cart.
When I shop at Meijers, I start with the food items, then head back
into house wares, and the book aisle. It was in the shampoo aisle
that I had my next encounter.
"Could you move your cart sir?" A woman asked me. I surveyed
the room between both my cart and the wall of the aisle. A sumo wrestler
could have fit through with his cart easily. I gave her an annoyed
look and moved my cart even further away from the wall. She returned
my annoyed look and sighed loudly. "You don't have to get an
attitude."
I was stunned. This was something I would expect in Kalamazoo. Cadillac
however, has very polite people year round. What I didn't take into
effect, was that many people spent only their summers here, and that
I was now dealing with tourists.
When she wasn't looking I practiced a language long since forgotten
since the school year had ended. Sign language. Next to me a guy snickered
watching the exchange and I took my frustrations out on him.
"What the hell is YOUR problem?" I asked, before throwing
shampoo into my cart and storming down the aisle.
I returned home and checked on my Sims. It had been 8 hours, and suddenly
their mood and health bars were at full, they had all been promoted
at work to the point where their income was more than their expenditures,
and the relationship between the man and the woman now included only
one bedroom.
My Sims were running their lives without supervision, better than
they could with me there.
That irritated me.
My cat came over and sat on the bed next to my desk, rolling over
for me to pet her stomach. I obliged, and returned to my movie marathon.
Something has to be done about the smoking industry's invasion of
the movies.
Two movies later, it was time for bed, and I spent a restless night
envisioning just how wonderful a cigarette would be.
Day three. The Sims had continued to get even better through the night.
Their relationship now included a baby that had turned into a child
while I wasn't looking. When I play the game and a baby appears after
sex, I have to have someone camp out in the room to make sure Child
Protective Services doesn't take it away. When I don't play the game,
apparently the baby is more than capable of raising itself.
I saved the game then set the house on fire, killing all of my Sims
and ending the game. I felt better, then reloaded the game and let
them live on their own some more.
Then I rearranged my apartment into something that would at least
make me feel better about my surroundings. Stacey called, and I kept
the conversation short, so as not to say something wrong.
I hit the web to find some information on cravings, and when they
would go away. The future looked bleak.
A trip to Walmart was just as successful as the previous trip to Meijers.
I yelled at two sales associates, and sighed impatiently and loudly
when the unmoving line at the checkout actually started to seem like
it was moving in reverse.
I returned, and checked in on the newly revived Sims again. Finally,
it seemed, I needed to be there. The child was nowhere to be seen,
which meant it had stopped going to school and was now at a military
boarding school never to return. The woman had moved out, probably
due to the fact that a next door neighbor was spending all his time
flirting with the man, and in fact, the one remaining Sim now appeared
to be unemployed, and gay.
They say, never quit quitting, but if I continued down this path,
I was going to alienate all of my friends, and eventually, I would
probably BECOME that hermit living in a shack in the woods writing
his manifesto. I couldn't take it anymore.
I went to the store and bought a pack of Basics. I figured, if I was
desperate enough to smoke, I would have to make due with them.
I lit one in the car on the way home, and the unease I felt melted
away. I rented a video and smoked several more while watching it.
Maybe I gave up to easily. Maybe I'm destined to spend my final years
in an iron lung, but the fact of the matter is, Stacey or no, I just
wasn't ready to cut one of life's dirty pleasures out of mine entirely.
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