I had learned to do those things ages ago. I tried to stay in comfortable denial but fear was seeping out with each exhale. I worked hard at a conservative corporate day job and utilized my real voice writing essays at night. In my late 20s I met a partner from a bigger, more prestigious law firm as he smoked a cigarette by a dumpster. We were so sleek, them in Vineyard Vines ties, me in black outfits slightly too sexy for a law firm. I just never did it again.
Look at me, look at me!
From Awkward Teen to Cigar Lounge Queen, How Cigarettes Brought Me to Life
Alone with my iTunes I sat there for hours, and as I packed a fresh box against my palm I traveled to another place, Dorothy clicking her heels together and returning to the Hartford Club. Then Reload the Page. Just one more cigarette. I was a proper lawyer now; it seemed fitting that I found a way to be above the law. That was before I switched to Marlboros, a more popular brand, even though the menthol taste of Newports blended nicely with my Aquafresh. I gazed with wonderment at the girls in my dorm, all dressed in tight black outfits, all sporting frosted highlights blown out like Rachel on Friends. There was no fanfare, no declared resolution, no dramatic crushing of the pack.