By Cami Beiter - As a teenager, I coveted the occasional cigarette with a select few, a very small circle. Most of my friends played sports. If our dirty little secret (and occasional habit) were discovered, coaches and parents, would have something say about it. We snuck a drag here and there...whether it was at a forbidden kegger, the late night concert or sitting on a friend’s deck after school.
My high school had a designated smoking section. I’m not sure how it worked, or was monitored. I can’t imagine sending a note into school: “My child has permission to smoke in the designated area, stink like an ashtray and blow smoke rings with fellow classmates.” Those who frequented the smoking section were forever deemed a, “bleacher creature.” My friends considered it social suicide to be seen on that area of campus. Dudes sported Ozzy Osbourne T’s with ripped sleeves, big hair, acid washed jeans...while other creatures of the bleachers, the fashion requirement was black, black and more black. If my friends and I wanted to sneak a drag, we did what most girls did...smoked in the girls bathroom. We walked in, dead-bolted the lock to the main door, and lit up. God,
Read more...Like this:
Like Loading...
