What a mistress she is, Lady Nicotine. Having seduced me 15 years ago with a few simple puffs of smoke, she quickly took charge. I am convinced that our beloved Vitamin N is gendered a female by so many because of her persistence, allure, and constant nagging. Its a love-hate relationship with us. Through good times and bad times, she was by my side. On many, many occasions I tried to end the affair, albeit unsuccessfully. Like a beautiful woman with extreme emotional baggage, she was difficult to give up. Not to mention keep out of my mind...

I still remember the day we met. It was a warm summer night in 1996. I was a mere 14 years old, as was my visiting friend who was planning on spending the night. After my parents fell asleep, my buddy introduced me to a new friend, Marlboro, "Lets sneak outside and smoke these cigarettes I stole from my dad." Knowing this was a bad idea, I objected yet reluctantly caved to peer pressure.

The basement window screeched loudly as we cranked it open and I was sure my father was on his way downstairs to catch us in the act. Luckily, no signs pointed to this and in no time we were walking down the dim, moon-lit street toward the neighborhood park. "How do you do it?" I asked. My friend pointed out the intricacies of cigarette smoking (as he perceived them) while we strolled.

He produced matches as we entered the dark park, heading toward a rest area. "Ok, just inhale while lighting the end and you're golden." Wow. I definitely over-did it on my first try as thick, acrid smoke pummeled my throat before permeating my virgin lungs and sending me into an outrageous fit of coughing. "Holy, *cough* *cough* shit *cough*..." He turned to me laughing, "Not so much, just start with small puffs."

Adjusting my technique, I got a few good drags in before I realized that my whole head was vibrating. Or was it pulsing? I couldn't tell because as I was thinking about this I felt my legs get all rubbery underneath me. Damn, why am I staggering? "This thing is making me way dizzy, man." "Uh-uh," my friend responded. "That's the buzz, it feels good. Just keep going."

I realized that it not only felt good, it was amazing. I wanted to feel this way all of the time. What had I been missing? And then just as quickly as it came on, Lady Nicotine was commanding me to sit down. A swing was nearby so I staggered toward it, tripping over the wood retaining wall of the sanded play area in the process. "I don't feel... so... good....," I stammered to my friend who seemed to think he was at the improv bar ever since I lit up. Once he brought his laughter under control, I learned that my symptoms are typical of first time smokers. I got a bad buzz. It will go away and shouldn't happen again.

This was a critical point in our relationship. It's like meeting an attractive woman at the bar who slaps you for your pick-up line, but later gives you her phone number. You know she is a little crazy and high-strung, but man is she hot... Wisdom tells you to stay far away, but something between your legs tells you something else. So, you call her. And indeed I did.

The affair started innocently enough. My friend kept pilfering his dad's Marlboros, and once or twice a week we would sneak off to the wooded area behind our homes to chase that first buzz again. It was basically like Lady Nicotine and I would make out on occasion, but I was careful to keep things from going beyond second base. Things remained like this for awhile.

Then I got my first job at a convenience store.

To be continued...