The Fraternity

My father used to comment about the people who stood in front of buildings in the winter on their smoke breaks. It always confounded him as to why these people willingly left warmth to do something that brought mostly harm to themselves. As I grew up I nodded in agreement. And once I made my own forays into nicotine, I so wanted to explain just how badly you need that hit sometimes. Blizzards are nothing when you need that charge going through your synapses.

And everyone that smokes feels the pain and there's a sense of brotherhood about it. Smokers might be the most unselfish group of people ever. Because as a smoker, one knows that if they see someone with a pack, if they ask politely, you'll probably get one if you're out and also a light to go with it. That smoking fraternity dwindles with every year, but somehow the bond seems to get stronger.

In the city, I have a longing for that fraternity. I won't lie. There is something romantic in the idea of people just smoking and walking or doing whatever. Maybe I've been bamboozled by all that clever marketing the tobacco companies seem to have a knack at. But wouldn't being part of a group with members everywhere be really appealing? People might reply that there is a Jesus group, but it's not the same because people in that group are so diversified. With smokers it's simple. No pretenses. No politics. Oh well. Maybe I'll start my own