thank you for smoking

Yesterday I was feeling bad about my job and failed interventions in reshaping young lives. Today I’ve been buoyed by my beloved smokers. Two of the kids in my quit smoking group told me that the group is their favorite class. (No need to mention at the time that it’s not actually a class.) And they love each other—not that they used those words. They just find kinship in knowing others who share their vice. Now I need to find a shared hobby to replace the vice. I invited them to join me for ballroom dancing lessons on Friday jokingly, only to find several major fans of “Dancing with the Stars.” That’ll teach me not to stereotype about boys with black nail polish.