Smokeless Tobacco

When I was growing up in Gatesville I saw a lot of the men dip snuff or chew tobacco. Usually, you could tell because you would see them spitting and the spit would be brown. Your next indication would be the large bulge in their mouth that looked like a jawbreaker. But that was candy of a different sort--a wad of chewing tobacco. It was a little harder to see if someone was dipping. But there it was, a little pinch of fine, black, pepper-looking stuff just in front of the bottom teeth.

Most people are grossed out when they hear me describe this. When you see it a lot though you think it's normal. So naturally when I was 13 I wanted to try some. At first I stole a little tobacco from a pouch my Dad kept hidden from my Mom. He used to chew tobacco but my Mom hated the fact that he did. Whenever she would find a pouch of tobacco she would throw it away and chide him. Dad would flaunt it in other ways though. He cut the proofs of purchase squares off the back of the packages and sent them in for a Beechnut T-shirt (one of his favorite brands). Then Dad would proudly wear this shirt around my mom who would make a sour face at him.

I wonder if Dad would have let me try chewing tobacco if I just asked? Well, I didn't. I took some and went outside to walk around the neighborhood nonchalantly. It was great! I felt like such a man with some tobacco in my cheek. I knew it could kill me but I didn't care. I was enjoying the tingling, light-headed feeling it gave me, not to mention the bad taste. Soon I was bragging to my friends at school and they all thought I was a bad-boy tobacco user. My buddy Jason, who was also 13, got me a pack of Levi-Garrett chewing tobacco for my birthday. How he acquired it I don't know but it was a brand new package and the kind I liked. (My older brother and his friends chewed tobacco and they used Levi-Garrett so I assumed that was the best brand.)

I continued to dabble in tobacco through my 8th grade year. This meant that I would take a tiny pinch from my hidden package which I was rationing ever so often. Those pinches would make my mouth tingle and salivate, generally a good feeling.

One night, Jimmy, who was one of my brother's older friends, stopped by our house looking for my brother. My brother wasn't home and Jimmy, being restless, invited me along to ride with him while we cruised the Drag (see entry for Mon. Sept 12th for explanation). Jimmy was always restless, it seemed like every week he had a different beat-up old car or a different job. We would ask him, "What happened to your car?"

"Oh, I wrecked it." he would say, or "I just got tired of that piece of junk."

"What happened to your job?"

"Oh, I quit," he would say, "I got tired of their crap and walked out."

Jimmy was incredibly funny too. He didn't cuss often but when he did it was in a way that would have you rolling on the floor with laughter. He would be emotionally elaborating about something and his tone would be building and building and then suddenly, there it was, like a star on a Christmas tree, the most obscene word you ever heard.

I have never met anyone wittier either. If someone jokingly insulted him he would immediately reply with an even better cut-down. If they were foolish enough to up the ante and say something again, Jimmy would reply just as quick, this time getting funnier and more crass. I have seen many cut-down fights started this way with Jimmy and they always ended the same way--Jimmy calmly staring at the other person who stood there red, flustered, and stuttering.

So I was riding with Jimmy who was somewhat of a hero to me down Main St. and he reached down under his seat and grabbed a pack of chewing tobacco and put some in his mouth. Then he offered me some. I wanted to look like a real man so I not only took some but I took a handful and crammed it in my cheek. Jimmy noticed and warned that I might want to be careful. "This stuff is cheap and strong." he said. But I assured him I could handle it.

Five minutes later I started feeling incredibly hot and slightly nauseous. At first I rolled down the car window to get some air. Then I stuck my head out the window to get even more air. I tried to pretend that everything was fine, but Jimmy could tell that I had gotten a little too much. He could probably tell because by this time I was pale, with a slight green tinge. Then there was no more pretending. I spit the tobacco out and my head was incredibly woozy. Suddenly, I didn't like riding in a car anymore. I never realized there was so much motion involved.

"Jimmy, take me home." I moaned with my head between my knees. He was sympathetic and told me if I ate some bread it would help me get better. Walking up to my house my head was floating 5 feet higher and 2 feet behind my body. I stumbled through the door and laid on the floor and watched the room spin. That was the last time I ever chewed tobacco.

Lessons learned: I have done stupid things to impress my friends. Also I shouldn't bite off more than I can chew.