Life Smoke Story
posted by July 6 at 10:30 AM
onAcross the street from this wonderful Asian market in the Oak Tree Village…
…is a small store that sells small things. I went into this store a few nights ago to buy a packet of cigarettes. My habit for some years now has been to smoke one cigarette before going to sleep.
On that particular night, however, I failed to find my cigarettes in my bag, and I was spending the night at my cousin’s house, and my cousin doesn’t smoke anymore. (The friendship with my cousin goes all the way back to my very first memory—me, age three, crossing with him, age five, and his brother, age ten, a train track in a township in Salisbury, Rhodesia: across the tracks is a shop that sells, among other things, candy.) Anyway, I left my cousin’s house, crossed Aurora, and entered the small store to buy a pack of cigarettes.
Inside, a Korean woman sat in a chair behind the counter. She was framed by a variety of cigerrette packs. She was somewhere in the middle of her forties. She was dressed to kill. Her heels were high, pants tight, shoulders exposed. I looked at her and then looked around her. I failed to locate my brand—Export A. But I did find the next best thing—Parliament. I asked for a pack. She looked at me oddly, and then looked oddly at the packs of Parliament: “You are the first black person who has ordered that kind of cigarette from me. Always, blacks order Kool Menthol.” She handed me the Parliament Lights, and I said something dumb, like: “Someone had to be the first.”
But for a quick moment I did feel like changing my order and buying a pack of Kool cigarettes, just so that the order of her universe was maintained and there wasn’t this annoying rupture, this break. I felt like saying: “What was I thinking? Thank you for bringing me back to my senses. It sometimes happens. You just forget who you are.”
Later, as I inhaled a Parliament on the door step of my cousin’s house, I had the feeling that I was smoking against the rules of my race. But a part of me pointed out that I was a black African and not a black American. But another part of me pointed out that, on the other hand, shouldn’t I adopt the habits of those I’m most like in appearance? I resolved nothing.
My sleep that night was not deep or heavy.
Comments
That Asian market is fantastic, but they are horrid if you are looking for masking tape.
I grew up about a block away from that same mini-mart you found the cigarettes at, and I know the women that you're speaking of. I'm not surprised that she made inane remarks. She'd always scowl at me and my friends like we were thieves when we went in there.
Or you could quit.
Was she Korean-Korean, or Korean-American? We Asian Americans sometimes require those distinctions, too.
Just sayin'.
I thought Parliament was a brand associated with black smokers.
This post was interesting to me, as I am now reading "The Cigarette Century" by Allan M. Brandt. He confirms that among African-Americans there is a longstanding preference for menthol cigarettes (Kool, Newport, and Salem brands). He says (p. 310)that research by the tobacco companies revealed that "Patrons associated these brands with less harsh, cooler, and medicinal tastes. Such preferences could perhaps also be linked to the use of menthol and other herbal remedies in African-American healing practices dating back to the colonies." Clearly menthol cigarettes hold no such associations for you, Charles, and you grew up in Rhodesia; why African-Americans overwhelmingly prefer menthol is still a puzzle. But the tobacco companies have certainly exploited their choice with targeted advertising. (The book also reports that African-Americans suffer disproportionately from tobacco-related diseases; black men have a 48 percent higher rate of lung cancer than white men and lost twice as many years of life to tobacco-related illnesses. Some studies reveal significant, perhaps genetic, metabolic differences in African-American smokers which lead to an inability to detoxify NKK, a particularly toxic carcinogen in tobacco smoke. So perhaps just one smoke before bed is a good choice!)
shouldn’t I adopt the habits of those I’m most like in appearance?
WTF? No, of course not. There, problem solved.
How long is The Stranger going to keep up this pretense that "Charles Mudede" is a real person and not a ludicrous fabricated persona?
Our status in society, and even our racial identity, is determined by which branded products we prefer to buy.
Wow. This reads like something out of Ask An Uptight Seattleite. The Weekly's calling you, Chuckie.
I've gotten the same reactions to my brand and everytime it was from a black person. I always felt like I was being guilted into "smoking black" or something.
Charles doesn't live his life; he is thinking too much about what he should be, or do, to actually do or be.
he's also ridiculous.
um, i worked at SHOPRITE for years and sold cigarettes to a lot of people. Black people smoke all kinds of cigarettes, not just menthol. The only thing i noticed was that Marlboro Lights box were the most popular cigarette and old ladies liked Eve brand.
Charles is a slog troll. That's my current theory.
My entire day has been thrown off since reading that black people smoke Parliaments.
About every third or fourth time I order my favorite bar beverage - a Courvoisier or a Henessey - someone says something racial (the wittiest yet was straight up: 'Are you black?'). My Missouri-born grandma turned me onto cognac and family whisperings had it that her grandfather on her father's side was a slave, so, maybe even that.
Charles is a great writer and is incredibly insightful. I don't understand how so many commenters have a problem with him.
When was the last time you did or bought something that wasn't race- or gender-appropriate? For most people, they learn to never break the rules by age 6 or so.
inciteful or insightful?
I do things that arent gender or race appropriate all the time; I dont TRY to be deep or clever about it.
well my daddy smoked 'lucky strikes'..
and now he's dead
.. come back charles to life..
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