Summer of 1977 and I had just turned 18. I was working in a pizza/hoagie joint right at the edge of campus. I think I was the only one that worked there who didn't smoke, including the boss. But despite being a smoker himself, he didn't want anyone smoking in the area where food was being prepared, so everyone that worked there took smoke breaks, except me. One relatively slow day, I left the food prep area to sit at one of the tables with a couple of people who were taking a smoke break. The boss came out and asked "Hey, why are you out here, you don't smoke!" So I walked to the front of the store and put enough change in the cigarette vending machine to
buy a pack; I'm pretty sure a pack cost still cost less than $1.00 at that time. It took it and the pack of matches that the machine also provided, went back to the table, lit up, and told the boss, "Now I smoke, and I get to take breaks too, OK?"
I knew it was stupid. I promised myself I'd quit in September when my girlfriend got back to campus (she was 400 miles away for the summer). However, the day she got back, she ended the relationship and left me heartbroken, so I kept right on smoking.