Jen's Diary

Something about Queers and Smoking

09/05/22

Did a nice fundraiser last night at The Glory, which is a gay bar in Hoxton. I don't get to play exclusively queer audiences much these days - so it was nice to remember that there are actually people out there who understand your life experiences. You don't have to introduce your identity, or pander to a lower common denominator. You can just roll up and say something bitchy and the venom is appreciated. God love the queers.

I got fairly drunk towards the end of the night, and ended up booking an Uber. While I waited for it though, I smoked a cigarette. Yeah, that's right - a cigarette. Not an e-cigarette, but a real, actual, dangerous one. I'm not a smoker, and I never have been. But a bartender at The Glory gave me some, and my family taught me never to pass up freebies, so I went to the newsagents, bought a lighter & smoked that baby.

Waiting for an Uber is so much easier when you're smoking. You have something to do, and you can stand up against a wall with one leg up behind you, and you can suck in the smoke and then blow it out of your nose. The thing with smoking is, is obviously I know it's bad. That's why I have never been a smoker - I've seen too many people die from cancer over the years to ever really get fully onboard with it. But, that being said, my parents smoked. In fact, so did most of my family. And I spent a lot of my childhood trying to sleep under a coat on a pub seat while my family got drunk and smoked and laughed. I have nostalgic memories associated with smoking, and to my fault - I think it looks cool. I do. I just do. It's cool.