ONE good thing about smoking is the feeling you get when you finally manage to give it up.
Now, don't think for one minute that I'm an ex-smoking preacher that likes to poop the party. In fact, I would prefer it if you lugged on a fresh coffin nail while reading this, that way my abstinence would appear even more impressive. Hypnotised three Wednesdays ago on No Smoking Day, I'm yet to scratch my legs or chase the cat up the stairs to relieve the withdrawal symptoms. Instead, proud of my new status and curious about the power of hypnosis, I have been doing my best to test my levels of resistance by mispending my youth and wages in smoky shabeens across town.
Ignoring the advice of my Farnham Royal hypnotist Emma Dicks, who suggested I wait a few days before visiting places that would compromise my standing as a non smoker, I hit up The Crown and Treaty Pub in Uxbridge, where my friends were taking to the stage for their first ever live gig. Absolutely useless, they were. I, on the other hand, was great. For the first time since I was a nipper and used to play behind the couches at a social club of a Sunday lunchtime, did I notice the stench of cigarette smoke. The following night, and with a different, and altogether more spiteful set of friends, I went out for dinner at the Troubador in Earls Court. Ordering organic, American Spirit cigarettes from the menu, they thought they would get me drunk and watch me cave. Smoke, I didn't, but what I did do on both occasions was run around with my pants down. Not a natural exhibitionist, I want to make it clear that I have never resorted to this level of attention seeking before in my life. I want to put it down to drinking more than usual to make up for not smoking, but what if this is how the hypnosis has offset my urge to smoke? From one vice to another? I sincerely hope not.
If you have any advice to help Sean quit please leave your comments here.
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