5 MONTHS FREE!!!

I was standing at the train station waiting for, what else, but the train when I saw him. This ashen faced man. He was hiding in a little enclosure meant to shelter commuters from the rain and snow. And he was smoking. Smoking is not allowed here at the train stations, and particularly not allowed in the enveloped encasings meant to offer people warmth and refuge, but it was okay, because he was hiding it. He held it cupped in his hand and held his hand behind his back. You didn't even have to see the thin trail of blue smoke drifting behind his personage, the stench reached you long before that.

But he was oblivious, stealthy in his mind. Others noticed too. I saw their noses crinkle with distaste and saw more than one individual walk out of the booth, too intimidated to say anything. As brazan as what he was doing to feed his addiction given he simply could NOT wait until his next stop, he could not meet anyone's eyes. Here was a man risking not only offending people, but a very steep penalty were he to get caught, just because he couldn't wait until the next stop.

Ah yes, I remember it well. Flashback to a rooftop patio party, the first summer smoking was made illegal on patios (ironically, you could still smoke inside the establishment). All we had to do was to go a few feet inside to light up but we, my friends and I , were deep in very important conversations (I can't remember exactly what, but I'm certain it was very important), and absolutely could not leave the patio. Besides, we thought, how silly a law being able to smoke inside but not out.

Oh yes, I have made thousands, nay millions of justifications about my habit. Let's see if I can remember a few; I'm still young, I'll quit when I'm a bit older; But my Uncle has smoked for years, and he's fine! (he's actually doubled over hacking most of the time); I could get hit by a bus; You can get cancer from anything this days, so why bother quitting? (Yes, but why not lower your chances ten thousand fold?). And on and on.

The truth is, at 5 months, I am finally starting to feel like myself. I don't think about smoking incessantly, I don't feel like I'm 'missing out' on something anymore, and I certainly don't miss the scarce bank account growing more scarce the stronger the addiction became. I am not cocky in this, nor over-confident. I know that I am always a puff away from a pack a day.

I can honestly say, that I really, really don't want a cigarette. That if one were offered to me, I would turn it down. That my faith in this process grows exponentially every day I abstain, and that one day I'll think, 'What the HECK was I thinking??' Just like my other Uncle who quit twenty years ago and can't believe he ever sucked all of that crap in. He's the Uncle that, at 82, is playing golf, going dancing with my Aunt, and standing tall and pink cheeked, smelling like a rose (well, okay - sorry Uncle - smelling like a windswept RUGGED beach;)

I hope Mr. Train Station Guy quits one day. It's really nice not to have people sidle away from you.