God, I miss smoking

I need an alternative social crutch and acceptable way of leaving weird situations, please.

An audio version of this post can be found here:

Smoking: How do I miss thee? Let me count the ways. 

I miss the anticipation. The knowledge that you’re about to have a cigarette. That in a couple of minutes you’ll be clocked out, in your own world; you’ll have moved from one reality into another. 

I miss how smoking gives you a valid reason to stand alone for 10 minutes and no one bothers you because ‘you are smoking’. 

I miss how you can just leave situations. It is the only excuse I can think of, generally accepted by society, to just piss off – be it mid-party, mid-funeral, mid-argument. See you later, suckers. You can just later-dayz out of there without worrying that anyone thinks you’re having a breakdown or that you’re exceptionally rude. Even if both are true. 

It’s magic. 

Smoking areas: where all the fun happens

I miss smoking areas. All of us reprobates huddled together, in the back alley of some pub, getting a blast of music every time someone opens the door, chatting openly to strangers because you’re the collective outcasts from your group. Smoking allows you to speak to strangers without appearing odd or sleazy. Simply asking for a light can spark conversations that elevate your evening from average to extraordinary. 

The same goes for office smoking. Remember the Friends episode where Rachel takes up smoking because she’s missing out on genuinely important work chat? That’s true! I’d hear all manner of work gossip and news in the fug of fog emanating from our smoky corner. There’s an all-in-it-together mentality that fosters comradery, which, in turn, leads to accelerated intimacy.

Some smokers think of themselves as renegades: look at us out here making questionable life decisions! “To hell with health!” we shout.

Smoking makes you feel cool. Okay, I’m saying ‘you’ here to deflect. I mean ‘me’ – smoking made me feel cool. I grew up watching Kate Moss make a career out of looking hot AF with a fag permanently hanging out of her mouth. I can’t forget that.     

Staring into space vs triumphant partying

I miss the mindfulness. Smoking is ‘doing’. Non-smokers: how many times a day do you stand outside on the street, whatever the weather, and just stare into space? Zero times, right? I only smoked five or six cigarettes a day, but those were five or six ‘time outs’: signals to myself that I was having a break. And because I was smoking (i.e. doing something), I didn’t have any toxic-productivity guilt or didn’t feel the need to fake-scroll on my phone scared people might think I’m a nutter.  

I miss smoking while partying. Finding a rogue cigarette when you’re out of your merry little mind is euphoric. During Margate’s Beach Rave 2018 (the best party I have ever been to, bar none, which will one day be the subject of another post), I remember putting my hand in my pocket, discovering an unopened pack of cigarettes and hoisting it aloft, two-handed, as triumphantly as if it was the Premier League Trophy. 

Margate (Botony Bay) Beach Rave 2018

God bless social crutches

I would get into arguments about smoking. Someone once told me how I was obviously using it as a social crutch. That clearly I had low self-esteem if I found it necessary to smoke in order to manage life. To which I replied: “Yeah, obviously. What’s your point?”

I am an outrageous extrovert. I LOVE THE CHAT. I am the first one there and the last to leave. That person wearing a pair of curtains as a cape and singing into your ear when all the lights come on at the club? That’s me. And yet, I still need a ‘Gimme a Break’ card every now and then. A moment to breathe. To collect myself. To stop being ‘on’. So, imagine what introverts have to put up with. Is a social crutch so bad? Don’t we all have them in differing ways to various degrees? 

To those sneering, I would say: Please point me in the direction of an alternative (socially accepted) way of: 

• Meeting strangers casually 

• Immediately having something to talk about 

• Getting daily time-outs

• Being effortlessly mindful

• Relaxing your body and your mind 

• Looking fucking cool 

But alas… Smoking is rank

The trouble is though, of course, that smoking is disgusting. It affects your teeth, hair, skin, eyes, nails – everything. It ages you. And after that, it’ll have a good crack at killing you. Smoking can kill you in so many ways that doctors struggle to list them all. Also, smokers stink and are poor. It is an eye-wateringly expensive way of ensuring you’re a bad kisser. 

But… life is hard. The news is a neverending nightmare carousel. It’s no surprise to me that figures released in February 2021 showed that sales of cigarettes in the UK rose by 7 per cent during the pandemic. There’s a nihilism about it – a recklessness – that appeals in times of trauma. I’d quite like to watch the world go up in flames with a glass of Beaujolais in one hand and a Marlboro Light in the other, please. 

Me enjoying a cig next to my pal Neil at his wedding in 2017

Yet, it’s an inevitability that soon you won’t be able to. New Zealand has just passed the strictest anti-tobacco legislation in the world, effectively banning it by degrees, increasing the legal smoking age every year. Mexico has just banned it totally in all public spaces. Meanwhile, the UK is looking at increasing taxes on vaping products and debating measures to see if England can become smoke-free by 2030 (the ‘Smokefree 2030’ campaign only relates to England at the moment, not the rest of the UK.)

It’s getting harder and harder to smoke – which is obviously a good thing for everyone’s physical health. (Not just the smokers’ health, but anyone who comes into contact with second-hand smoke too. This isn’t simply a case of Big Brother looking to ruin your good time.) 

But… I miss it

I quit smoking on 1 January 2019 because my body simply rejected it. I physically cannot smoke now (I have tried). I feel immediately sick. And yes, I know my lungs are thrilled. Yes, I can run a faster 5 km. Yes, I know quitting played a big part in my cervical smear coming back clear (that smoking directly affects the health of your cervix needs to be better known, by the way). Yes, I realise it’s pretty much the worst (legal) thing health-wise you can inflict on your body day-in, day-out. Yes, my wallet is super grateful. Yes, I’m glad I don’t have arguments with strangers who feel like they have a right to judge my life decisions. Yes, I smell better. 

But, until we find an alternative (and healthy) means of achieving all of the above, hear this: I MISS IT. 

Just One More Thing…

Please can any smokers or ex-smokers let me know if you recognise how I feel? And, if you’re a non-smoker, does what I’m saying make sense? Do you ever crave that social crutch – that ability to just say, “I’m off, team. See you in a bit” – or get an uncomplicated break from the day-to-day? I’m very curious.  

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