Proof

I can't believe I've been grounded! So Mom caught me smoking one little cigarette, what's the big deal? S'not like I do it all the time. That she knows... Besides, it was all Tony's fault! He was the one who gave it to me in the first place. But he doesn't get in trouble, I do... And who cares if I smoke? Mom says it's a nasty habit, and can ruin your life. But lots of people do it every day, and they're just fine. Plus, Grandpa smokes! And he's healthier than all the other old people I've met. If only I could prove that Mom's acting all protective for no reason, then maybe I can get ungrounded...

It's a good thing I have this hat. Brett says that these promotional Santa hats everyone's been getting have some sorta weird power in them. He says that he wished for better grades at school, and now he's the smartest kid in class! Sure, he always was a genius, but I s'pose it changes other peoples' memories too? At least, that's what it sounded like when he explained it to me. And he's the brainiest guy I know, so it's gotta be true! 

I stuck the Santa hat on my head, and sighed. This better work... I thought through exactly what I wanted, and after a few minutes, I said out loud, "I wish I could prove I'll live a long life even if I smoke..." I waited, hoping that maybe some useful evidence or knowledge would suddenly come to me. But nothing. I can't believe I actually thought Brett was telling the truth. I feel so stupid...

I slammed a fist onto my bedside table, only for the drawer to slide open. Weird, it's never done that before. As I was about to close it, I noticed something inside. I reached in, and pulled out some weird looking log. I gave it a smell, and recognized the tobacco. Of course, it's a cigar! But I never put a cigar in there. And I don't know anyone who smokes them. Even Grandpa sticks to his fancy pipes. Still, it's pretty cool to have around. I put the cigar between my teeth, and was surprised as it automatically lit itself. Then I knew. This was exactly what I needed. If I want to prove I'll live a long life, then that's what I'll have to do. The magic hat was working!

Even now, as smoke billowed from the cigar, and my eager mouth, I could feel its power flowing through me. Helping to push myself forward in time. My mom thinks that smoking at a young age can stunt your growth? Well, look at me now! I'm practically growing like a weed. I'm getting so much taller, my clothes don't even fit me! I rip them off, chuckling as I tossed them to the ground. It gave me a better look at my growing body. Check out all this muscle I'm putting on, smoking sure hasn't stopped me from bulking up. Giving me solid abs, and a nice pair of pecs. Haha, and it definitely hasn't affected my body hair either. I'm getting so hairy, I'm almost like an animal! Even my beard is coming in nicely, I can't believe it's grown so much. It's already covered my whole face, and it's so thick. I can grow a pretty mean beard. It feels so soft...

I took the cigar out of my mouth, and held it aside. I stroked my hairy body with a grin. This is awesome, not only do I have the satisfaction of being proved right, but I get to enjoy being a grown man! I'm sure this was proof enough that smoking was that bad for you. I'm taller than my dad, and much more muscular too! It didn't stunt my growth in the slightest, and I've made it out of puberty coming out on top. Yet something was nagging at me. This wasn't enough. Sure, I proved I wouldn't be some little runt, but I still had a long road ahead of me. Plus, I was still young enough to get lectured about my future, and how I should listen to my elders... I need to push forwards even further. While it's nice to be a handsome, young man, I can't stay that way. It'd be a waste of a perfectly good cigar...

I get it, smoking can do nasty things to a guy. But so does over-eating, so does caffeine, and alcohol, and so much other shit. And then the act of growing older brings its own problems. Your metabolism slows down, which means more time spent trying to keep in shape. Something I don't have, clearly, as my abs quickly disappear underneath a slab of growing flab. And sometimes, genetics have a cruel card to play. Even now, I can feel my hairline slipping back beneath my hat, leaving me with less hair up top than I have down below. Which sucks, I love my hair. But sometimes you have to make sacrifices... At least the amount of body hair I have elsewhere makes up for that. It's growing like a weed all over my skin, even giving my back its own generous coating.

Maybe this'll be enough. I'm a perfectly average middle-aged guy now. I'm even older than the both of them by a few years. A little overweight due to my healthy appetite, but otherwise okay. What more proof do they need? I dig around in the cabinet next to me, and pull out a bottle of beer, cracking the cap open on the side of the cabinet. Ahh, I needed a good drink after all that. Growing up is hard work, after all. I wipe my mouth clear, feeling my soft beard underneath my hand. It's getting a little gray, but that's what happens when you reach my age. And how I wish I could stop here, comfortable in middle-age. But there's still some life in this cigar, and I can't snuff it out just yet. I need all the proof I can get...

So here goes nothing... I begin smoking once more, feeling myself encroaching into my senior years. But all of those worries about getting old have nothing to do with smoking. My beard is getting ever more white, until I look like a stern Santa, with the hat and all. And my face is getting ever more laden with crows feet, and bags. Smoking doesn't give you wrinkles, of course. It's just something that happens as you grow old, and your skin begins to sag. Much like my sagging belly and pecs. They used to be so tight, and now they droop atop another. Getting old does that to a man. I can't keep active as much, thanks to my weakening joints making it more difficult to get around. Plus, I don't shy away from all those sweet treats, each delicacy only adding more to my belly. Then all that extra weight I've put on only aggravates my knees and back even more. These old bones aren't getting any younger, you know! Besides, it's not like smoking makes you prematurely age, it... Well... You got me there... If anything, that's all that smoking has done to me! But it's for a good cause. If entering retirement is what it'll take to prove that it's not some death sentence, then that's what I have to do! 

My cigar finally reached the end of its tether, I couldn't get any more out of it. I snuffed it out in an ashtray on the table and grunted with satisfaction. If they wanted proof, well I was living proof right here! Look at me, I'm old as fuck! I've literally smoked my entire life, and I'm in pretty damned good condition for a seventy-year-old. I may be a big-bellied, white bearded, bald motherfucker, but I'm still sharp as a tack! In fact, I think I'll have another cigar to celebrate.

As I grabbed another one and took a sip of my beer, there was a knock at the door. And then in they came, the two freeloaders...

"Jesus Christ! I thought we told you not to smoke in here anymore!"

"And I thought I told you that I can do as I damned well please..." I growled, clearly not pleased to see them.

"Don't you think it's time to give it up? I mean, you're not exactly a young man any longer."

I smirked. If only she knew... "I've been smoking since I was just a lad, and it ain't done me no harm one bit. Now I'm an old man, so I think I earned the right to do as I want in my own house."

"But you're not the only one who lives here, you know," she fumed. She crossed her arms, and held her nose high, all snooty-like. "It'd be alright if you stuck to smoking outside, but you don't. I can't stand the stench, it permeates through everything!"

"If it bothers you so much, you don't have to live here! You're lucky that I'm letting you rent the place for so cheap." I held my head high in defiance, jutting my jaw forward. Although with my beard, it wasn't as noticeable.

She tried to argue once more, but her man put an arm on her shoulder. "Forget it, there's no arguing with him. He's just a stubborn mule." He pulled her in close, and whispered, "if he wants an earlier grave, we can't stop him. Besides, I've been doing some apartment hunting, and found..."

He continued to speak quietly as they both left the room, and closed the door behind them. I could almost cackle with glee. Yeah, that's right. Walk away. I sure showed them! I'm not some impressionable little kid any longer, I'm a fucking old man! An old man who can smoke whenever he wants to, goddammit! I have the ultimate seniority, and I'm gonna use it to smoke 'til the day I keel over! Mmm, it feels good to be right. It feels good being retirement age. Heh, retirement. I'm so fuckin' old, man... I stroke my flabby, hirsute body with a satisfied grin. Then I stick a hand down my pants, and sigh. Yup, no regrets here. A guy could get used to this...