Smoking (quitting)

From Frikipedia

Do that if you want, but I'll be back with some sticky tape before you know it, you smug cow.

Overview aka "A Rant"

Right, fine, Friki surrenders, you all win. It is quitting smoking. The endless segregatory marginalisation of its tab-hag bretheren has finally broken its resolve. The straw that broke the tar-coated camels back is the charming blanket ban recently brought into effect in the UK, making it illegal to smoke in pubs, bars, clubs, venues, train stations, bus stops, smoking rooms, taxis and just about anywhere else that isn't your own flat. Though to cover that loophole, Friki's flatmates don't let it smoke there either. An annoying eventuality, brought in on pious health grounds (penalising the smoker whilst ignoring the varied mix of discounted alcohol and greasy pub food still available inside most of said buildings, though less so in taxis, admittedly), and carried out with the reassuring hectoring tone of an authoritarian government (forcing every building in the country to display prominent no-smoking signs, just in case some people were still unaware it was wrong to smoke in a library). And lets just ignore the glaring fact that the only bar in the country where smoking is still allowed is located in the Houses of Parliament. Do as they say, not as they do.

Life has gone on. Smokers, a charming folk by and large, have sighed, shrugged their shoulders, coughed up a bit of charred lung tissue, chewed thoughtfully on it for a moment, and headed outside in their droves. Now most pubs round Friki's neck of the woods are pretty much deserted inside, whilst the pavements and beer gardens are full of the happy puffing of a thousand smokers, all mingling in a heady atmosphere which echoes the old Blitz mentality of London's war years. You can bomb us with smoking bans all you like, evil people, but we will suffer through it with a laugh and a smile, and come out stronger on the other side.

Predictably, the largely indifferent reaction by the smokers to the ban has angered the non-smokers. So now plans are afoot to try and extend the ban. All around the country, non-smokers are coughing loudly when anyone tries to light up in an outdoor beer garden, and several times Friki has had random members of the public take offence to the fact that it was "blowing smoke near them" as they walk past Friki standing diligently outside the pub. What exactly do these people want? We've left the pubs, go in there if you want some fresh air. Or are you just upset that now you've removed the tab haze, every public house now smells of a combination of the blokes toilets and BO.

So the next raft of measures is on it's way. Last week, it was announced that soon the warnings on packets of ciggies would now carry graphic photos of cancer-riddled corpses lying on cadavers, or arty shots of blackened sets of lungs, designed with all the subtlety of slapping a smoker across the face with a scale model of a tumour. Presumably this is designed to "shock and awe" smokers into quitting, as they stare at the pretty(ish) pictures and shout "Wow! Nobody told me about all this!".

But why stop at smoking, one asks, if this is such a good idea. Why not stick massive pictures of cirrhotic livers on the side of bottles of Magners cider? Or freakishly-lit snaps of cholesterol-furred arteries on the side of every Happy Meal (you could also change the puzzles on the side into mazes where kids have to follow the path of the blood clot all the way through to the aorta)? Wherefore art the diaramas down the sides of every car depicting the aftereffects of a particularly gruesome head-on collision with a lamppost? Bring forth the mobile phone covers adorned with the teary face of an infant leukemia victim, and the shots of desperate flood survivors waving from secluded rooftops daubed onto the next fleet of Airbuses. Why not simply erect megaphones on every street corner which bellow out the message "Oi you! Yeah, you! You're slowly dying mate, you are!" at passers by. Everyone must be terrified into a life of tofu and mineral water before it's too late! We'll deal with the added strain on health services later!

Of course, the above is simply a doom-monger's wet dream, and will (almost certainly) never happen. Possibly. But never mind, smoking has become too much of an effort in self-restraint these days, so Friki has decided to give up. For the sixth time in it's life, which is a remarkable, if not particularly encouraging, statistic. It wishes it had the willpower to go on smoking with everyone else, and not give in to the constant prodding and cajoling of society. But alas, reader, it is simply too weak willed.

Quitting Methods

The Nicorette Inhaler. You don't know whether to toke on it or use it when the Red Army invades.

So you've decided to quit smoking. Excellent! Choose from the following methods and within days you'll have bitten your fingernails down to the bone!

• Patches - Most predictable. Patches are easy to affix to one's arm or chest and provide a steady flow of nicotine throughout the day. The main drawback there is that a smoker doesn't usually receive a steady flow of nicotine, more 15-20 hits throughout the day, so does nothing to alleviate the sweaty palms after every meal and during every drinking session.
• Gum - Dreadful stuff. Small cubes of a substance that has the taste and texture of pool chalk. Also, to release the nicotine into the body, you are required to push the gum between your gum and lip every few chews. This means that you accidentally end up making a kids-style "mongy face" at whoever is sitting opposite you on the tube.
• Inhaler - Not only gives you the "hits" of old, but also allows you to hold something in your fingers as you inhale, keeping lungs and hands busy. Main drawback is the design, it looks like a tampon. Frankly, not really the object you want to be mistaken for sucking on in a public place.
• Self-help Groups - Ugh. For a start, 'self-help group' is a contradiction. Secondly, spending an hour sitting around whilst grizzled fag-hags mope on about their feelings is precisely the kind of thing that will drive you to light up as soon as you manage to escape.
• Cold Turkey - For masochists and people who don't really want to quit. Will usually last for several hours until quittee is found sobbing gently in a corner, chain-smoking entire packets at once and whispering sweet nothings to their lighter, promising never to leave again.
• Not Actually Quitting - Most popular method of quitting smoking, particularly after a few days on one of the other methods. Maintaining a public profile of reformed non-smoker, whilst actually sneakily smoking more than ever before is tricky to pull off, and requires series of semi-convincing excuses to disappear outside the pub, coupled with industrial strength air freshener for smoking in the flat. Can be the most rewarding, however, as it gives a combined nicotine hit and adrenaline rush, as you feverishly smoke as quickly as possible while casting nervy glances over your shoulder. Like having an affair, but more rewarding.
• Taking up Heroin - A working example of the principle that the best way to forget about a painful bruise on your left arm is to get punched twice as hard in your right arm. What are you going to be thinking about as you desperately start robbing grannies for pennies in an attempt to secure the funding for tomorrows fix? Not buying fags, that's for sure!

Pitfalls

A better man than Friki. Tomorrow.

A number of potential pitfalls exist to test even the most hardened quitter:

• The three day hump. The point where the residual nicotine has left your body but all the endorphin receptors in the brain remain, crying out in unison for some sweet, sweet nicotine. Using patches or gum can offset this dreaded moment until you actually stop using the patches or gum. So not really helping at all.
• The first night out. The first time you go for a piss-up after starting to quit is a nightmare, as for many years, booze and fags will have gone hand in hand performing a beautiful chemical dance in your brain. The stimulants and endorphins of the fags cancelling out the depressive effects of alcohol. Hence the first non-smoking beers will send you spiralling into a pit of despair from which smoking again seems the only escape. Can be avoided by getting your friends to restrain you, Hannibal Lecter-style and feed you beer through a straw. " I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Marlboro...".
• Patronising people. Non-smokers will, as soon as they find out you're quitting, offer some patronising platitude like "Aw, good for you! You know it makes sense!" delivered with the sing-song voice usually reserved for toddlers. One of these is easily enough to convince said quitter to start again to shut up the self-righteous pomposity of the world and all its children.
• The fact that smoking is cool. Which it is. Given Friki's terribly low post-smoking coolness levels, a return to the fags may be necessary simply to get random passers-by to stop throwing stuff at it.

Conclusion

Quitting smoking is for quitters.