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Smoking is Cool

Smoking is Cool SMOKING IS COOL/ THE CIGARETTES WERE CALLED Velvets, and my job was to smoke them. I was given a purple velvet suit and a cheat sheet listing the names of bars I was permitted to smoke in and drinks I was allowed to order, and was assigned a partner, a fashion design school dropout who wore a red velvet dress and whose name was Karen. My suit coat had wide, baggy inside pockets which I kept stuffed with the cigarettes I would distribute free to the bars' other patrons. Karen was issued a clasp handbag for the same purpose. "Don't let them know you're working for us," instructed our supervisor, Nadine, a stark-faced businesswoman with efficient, unadorned hands. This was at head- quarters, a narrow downtown storefront with blacked-out windows that in recent years had been home to several fly-by-night religious groups and a Reform Party campaign office. It was our first night, our pockets full of mad money. "Offer them the product as if ifs from the bottom of your heart," she said. "Like this. Cigarette?" She proffered a Velvet Long to Karen, who accepted it between her index and middle fingers. "Obliged," Karen said, and swept http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png The Missouri Review University of Missouri

Smoking is Cool

Lennon, J. Robert
The Missouri Review , Volume 21 (3) – Oct 5, 1998
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Publisher
University of Missouri
Copyright
Copyright © The Curators of the University of Missouri.
ISSN
1548-9930
Publisher site
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Abstract

SMOKING IS COOL/ THE CIGARETTES WERE CALLED Velvets, and my job was to smoke them. I was given a purple velvet suit and a cheat sheet listing the names of bars I was permitted to smoke in and drinks I was allowed to order, and was assigned a partner, a fashion design school dropout who wore a red velvet dress and whose name was Karen. My suit coat had wide, baggy inside pockets which I kept stuffed with the cigarettes I would distribute free to the bars' other patrons. Karen was issued a clasp handbag for the same purpose. "Don't let them know you're working for us," instructed our supervisor, Nadine, a stark-faced businesswoman with efficient, unadorned hands. This was at head- quarters, a narrow downtown storefront with blacked-out windows that in recent years had been home to several fly-by-night religious groups and a Reform Party campaign office. It was our first night, our pockets full of mad money. "Offer them the product as if ifs from the bottom of your heart," she said. "Like this. Cigarette?" She proffered a Velvet Long to Karen, who accepted it between her index and middle fingers. "Obliged," Karen said, and swept

Journal

The Missouri Review – University of Missouri

Published: Oct 5, 1998

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