Eleven years old is way too young to walk into a store and be able to buy a pack of cigarettes. That’s how old I was when I experimented with my first cigarette.
I was a shy but very curious and smart little kid, and no one in my family smoked. I desperately wanted to fit in with the “cool” crowd. At that time, I considered you to be cool if you were older than me and blew circles with your cigarette smoke, among other things. This also was the beginning of a long history of smoking.
My smoking didn’t become an everyday thing, however, until I was about 16 or 17 years old. My cig of choice was menthol, after trying all types and brands.
I remember that smoking was everywhere — at all the parties I went to and in school, adult gatherings, airplanes, etc. And the label “warning” wasn’t so