Every time I read this post, I remember when:
I first started smoking at the age of 17. I hadn't yet bought my own pack or lighter (I didn't realize I was addicted) and used to dig around my mom's ashtray trying to find the longest smokable butts and then furtively light them on various kitchen appliances. I once burnt my chin lighting a very short butt on the stove. I think I lost a few nose-hairs and eyelashes as well. Another time, I tried lighting a butt with the toaster (don't try this at home). The butt slipped in and started to toast. I stuck my fingers in to try to recue it but then let it go when Mom suddenly entered the kitchen and asked what the smell was. I pretended it was toast. She left and I saw the butt had caught fire so I turned the toaster upside down and started shaking it furiously. Now all the crumbs caught fire. I nearly burnt down the kitchen...
I was mortified by these desperate acts but would have sooner suffered these humiliations than admit I was a desperate addict. What a strong grip nicotine has!!!!!!!
Ilona