A dark room. The only light offered by candles. In the background are the sounds of Billie Holiday. Me, in my black, long-sleeved, just-below-the-knees '40s dress. High-arched '40s-style pumps. Black sheer stockings. Nails, long and red, to match my red lipstick. '40s-style makeup with the black eyeliner just on the eyelids, accentuated like a cat. Black mesh veiled hat, the veil coming to just above my lips.

The client: black pinstriped '40s suit, perfectly tailored. Gazing in yearning at the smoke rising up from my cigarette that I was holding. I looked at him and said, "See, it's not so bad. All you have to do is put the cigarette between your lips and suck a little bit of that smoke in."

As I demonstrated this, I opened my mouth and let the smoke rise up through my nose, inhaling and then exhaling all of the smoke and blowing it in his direction. He looked at me and said, "I don't know if I can."

I told him, "It's very easy," and demonstrated again, breathing in the cigarette, holding the smoke in with my mouth open; then I quickly breathed it
all in and exhaled it. I told him to bring his chair closer. He moved his chair directly in front of me and I leaned back and crossed my legs. I put out my
cigarette and grabbed two more, lighting them both at the same time. Slowly inhaling from both, I handed him one. He took the cigarette, as I had demonstrated to him how to hold it in his hand.

"Put it up to your lips...that's it...now just breathe in a little bit."

He exhaled the smoke through his nose and up through his mouth. I leaned forward and sucked from the cigarette again, opening my mouth and letting the smoke rise up through my nose and over my veiled face as I inhaled the smoke through my nose. And then I exhaled the smoke and blew it into his face.

"Your turn," I said.

He tried to do it once again, and then told me that he didn't really like to do it very much. He told me that he didn't know if he could smoke. I told him to bend over the stool; I handcuffed his arms underneath it, his face hanging down to the floor. I then lay down in front of the stool with my face about a foot and
a half away from his. I lit up another Kent and smoked very slowly again as
he anxiously watched. I exhaled the smoke into his face. I then held up the
cigarette to his lips and told him to suck and inhale. He did it slowly, as the smoke rose up through his nose. I looked him directly in the eyes and told him, "Now you'll be addicted, and you'll never be able to quit."

As Billie Holiday sang her blues in the background, I continued to smoke, slowly exhaling out of my full red lips. He looked at me and said that he thought that he might be able to smoke on his own now, and that he'd be happy to continue smoking for me. I unlocked his handcuffs and told him to sit back on the stool again. I put out the cigarette and lit two more. I got up and grabbed a dressing mirror that was about 5 feet tall and 3 feet wide so he could see us smoke together. I told him to look at himself in the mirror and smoke slowly. I wanted him to taste all of it. Whenever he took a drag, he would look in the mirror and watch himself smoke; whenever I would take a drag, his eyes would shift to me. Constant inhaling and exhaling. I told him that he'd be addicted and never be able to quit and that he'd have to come and see me every week for his smoking lessons. I walked him to the door and told him to kiss my hand and thank me for my time.