No. 25: Learn to roll cigarettes I’m absolutely certain that British men roll cigarettes, though several people have tried to tell me I’m wrong. Zeddy wonders where I got this generalization from, but I know the ratio of Americans to Brits who tuck their tobacco leaves into little paper squares must be sliding heavily in the English favor. I’ve seen enough Jason Statham movies, I know stuff.
I’m with the girls at a blues bar Becky likes which has live music every Monday night, specializing in a grungy, smoky, I’ve-had-too-many-pints-and-that-guy-with-the-neck-piercing-looks-kind-of-cute atmosphere, when I find my proof.
A guy with a neck piercing who looks kind of cute is rolling a cigarette, and I ask him for a tutorial.
Seth (a way too normal sounding name for this guy) carefully folds the paper into a V, lines the tobacco into the crease, presses a health-conscious filter into one end, and rolls the contraption up. He’s tapping the cig on the table to make sure all the tobacco is compressed, and asks me if I need a light.
Oh. He thinks I’m actually interested in smoking a cigarette.
I’m smoking my cigarette, listening to a guy in a purple blazer we’ve dubbed the Set Nazi do a rendition of “Wang Dang Doodle” on his harmoni-guitar, and I’m feeling pretty satisfied with my slowly-developing cancer self.
And in the next few days I start noticing that London is lousy with cigarette rollers. The marketing guy at work, irreverent young women in cafes, teenagers breaking the law and lighting up on the Tube, all upholding my stereotype of the burly Brit rolling their nicotine. Jason would be pleased.
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