But advertising revenue helps support our journalism. Click the AdBlock Plus button on your browser and select Enabled on this site. Look at me, look at me! I wanted to relive all those phases, as different as they were the same, even if just for one sweet, bubblegum moment. Jules Barrueco is a lawyer and a writer in New York City. With him I lit the fresh tip of one off the cherry of another, back to back to back.
My mother had just died, my boyfriend had just leveled me, and in this smoky little room, I felt like I could breathe.
The smoking ban was in place, but there I sat with a cigarette between my lips, feeling important. Gone was the confidence I acquired with my Marlboro miles. This became habit, befriending bartenders and becoming a literal insider while ordinary smokers were shunned to the curb. I was still a full-time smoker from dusk until dawn, and when I wanted one during the day, I splashed some vodka in my orange juice and sparked one up with breakfast. I was a proper lawyer now; it seemed fitting that I found a way to be above the law.