A Guilty Habit

So, I get it. They are excrutiatingly unhealthy. They kill you, slowly and quickly. They serve the goals of evil multinational corporations and they burden the health care system. They serve no actual purpose, neither actually calming you nor making you cooler. They smell bad, turn your teeth yellow, transform your hair into straw and raise your heart rate. They are more addictive than heroin, and because of this, end up costing you a ridiculous amount of money. You are better off to run into walls repeatedly, or play chicken on the 401, or potentially, jump from rooftop to rooftop a la "Stepping Time" for cheap thrills. 

But. I have always loved smoking. Always. I love it so much. I love the click of the lighter, the initial smell of burning tobacco, the smell of a fresh pack. I love OPENING a fresh pack, I love having something to do when I exit a place. I love getting that social chance to slow down and stand around with people, talking about things.

And, since I began, I have loved the variety of cigarettes. I love the different flavours, smells and textures of each brand and grade. And I have consistently made it my mission to "collect 'em all," as it were.

So here, as I nic-fit and try not to smoke (because underneath it all, I like living and breathing and not smelling like ass better than all the above), I will address the differences between a few brands that have been formative in my adoration of cigarettes.

I start, of course, with my LEAST favourite. This is the brand that is most effective for me to quit on. Because they taste like ass and smell twice as bad. They leave an ash-y cabbage-y taste in your mouth long after you've smoked them. This is the brand chosen by my ex's mother, who has "tried" to quit unsuccessfully for years. To be honest, the smell of her post-cigarette convinces me that smoking is no good. No good at all. *shudder*
PJs are the mid-range mid-quality cigarette of choice for the most people. I know more people who smoke PJs than the sum of all other brands. I would say, of the smokers I know, about 65% smoke PJs. And it's not like they have some mad brand loyalty. In fact, in many cases, if you've got a Belmont or a Du Maurier, they'll bum one off you, even if they've got a fresh pack of PJs. Because, as inoffensive as it is, flavour- and smell-wise, it's a cheaper brand. It lacks the oomph of other brands. I would go into the differences between PJ light and PJ regular, but I think it goes without saying. For the most part, anyone in their right mind would prefer a PJ light. The regulars taste too.... iron-y, really, is the only way I can capture it.
Ah, Du Maurier. When and if I am 1) not concerned about money and 2) smoking without shame, this is my brand du jour. It reminds me of McGill and girls wearing political science-looking scarves. It reminds me of my first love and Jill Barber and the smell of fresh snow. Isn't that HORRIBLE? All these brilliant beautiful memories tied up with a brand of cigarette? TELL NO ONE. Regardless, this cigarette has a mature, almost fruity-cigar-y flavour, especially when fresh. Unlike both previous brands, which have the kind of loose packing that occasionally reminds one of the dreaded "native" cigarette, each Du Maurier cigarette is packed perfectly fully, unlikely to break with an exuberant flick, and burning slowly and elegantly from start to finish. I can say nothing bad about this brand, except that it's connected to horrible corporations and lung cancer, like every other brand. *sigh*
Belmonts are for those with moneys. They are also, according to a friend of mine, the favoured selection of the pot-head. I have seen less evidence of this latter statement. But they are damned lovely. They are the smoothest of all the brands. They remind me of a well-dressed lawyer who sings jazz karaoke on the weekends and drinks gin and tonics with two lime slices. This girl would be an excellent driver, and she would never raise the pitch of her voice at the end of a sentence in supplication. But I digress. The only thing I don't like about this cigarette is also the thing I do like about this cigarette. It's almost too smooth. I like a bit of a grab in the back of my throat when I smoke. Makes me feel alive. I know. Most ridiculous and disgusting thing ever.
Camel is not a favourite of mine. I bought one pack once because I read a Tom Robbins book that spent a lot of time talking about the design on the pack, and out of blunt curiousity. They are a nutty smoke, very cigar-like and rich. They typify a strange quality found in American cigarettes. They taste good but bad. There is a weird, almost burning poop taste to them. I don't get it. They all have that vibe. Just a little too rich and thick, you know?
THIS. This brand was my downfall. I blame my favourite high school teacher. She spoke about the French Philosophes and how they "sat around at cafes, smoking gauloises and theorizing the future." The whole concept was so romantic and exciting that almost immediately thereafter, I got a friend of a friend of mine to buy me a pack. At first, it was only as often as I smoked weed. I would sneak one when I knew I could explain the cigarette smell through some other person or party. That first pack lasted me almost a whole year. Then I "quit" or rather, didn't buy another pack, until I moved to Peterborough. It was October. I smoked Matinees at that point, because my roommate smoked them. Never again. When a new smoke shop opened on George street, I was back on Gauloises, which my neighbours, also smokers, called "Frenchies." They had the added benefit of being rejected by them, because they hated them. This meant that they would come to bum, and leave empty-handed BY CHOICE. I would offer them, and they would turn them down. Because they were habitual bummers, and rarely returned the favour, this felt great.

This brand typifies everything I like about smoking, and only two of the things I don't like. Their smell, the shape of their pack, the colour of their filter and paper (the paper is not white, but a very very white off-white, almost the colour of moleskine paper), the design of their emblem, their history, how well they're rolled, how long they are (king and regular is another whole topic. Gauloises are always king, but also, just a slightly longer king than other brands), how thick the smoke is... oh. How I love them! And while they still stain my teeth and give me cancer, they're smell is distinct and musky enough that I don't smell literally like an ashtray. I smell like an old man, really, but not an ashtray. And if you know me at all, you know all things Old Man are adored. 

There are other brands of course. Brands I couldn't be bothered to find an image for.

Number 7s, regular and king, are the most excrutiatingly painful brand to smoke, but as such, excrutiatingly enjoyable.

Matinees, mentioned briefly, are too mild, but not in the way Belmont's are. I always end up cutting the filter shorter, and then regretting it. With the filter, you can't taste or feel a bluddy thing. Without it or with less of it, all you can taste are chemicals.

Marlboro's, comme le Camels, are a skeezy american brand, but occasionally enjoyable, especially with a nice Canadian beer.

Players taste like blood in your mouth. Booh.

Natives range from bad to worse, and they remind me of Tim Horton's coffee. People smoke them because it's convenient, cheap and because they are really really addicted. There is no art or enjoyment in them. 

So there's my therapy session for the moment. I hope this makes me feel better. Admitting you have a problem is the first step, right?

*shudder*

Now I'm gonna go smoke. I hate myself. *sigh*