How I Learned to Drive and Smoke

"Barefoot driver. I like that!" Herr Schwarzbach commented.

"Yes. It feels good," I replied while adjusting seat and mirrors.

"So have you been all right?" he asked.

"Yes. I've been fine."

"No vomiting?"

I smiled:

"No vomiting."

"So do you feel the calming effects of cigarettes?"

"Maybe. At least it's calming that I don't have to pay for this lesson."

"Are you ready?"

"For another cigarette? I suppose so."

Herr Schwarzbach offered me a cigarette. I reached for one and had to work it out because I was taking the first cigarette from his pack of Marlboro Reds.

"Oh, these are stronger, aren't they?"

"I think so. But I had a very nervous student on Friday. I had to give her the rest of the other pack. So I bought these for you to try," Herr Schwarzbach explained and held out the car's cigarette lighter.

I put the cigarette between my lips and moved it toward the lighter, concentrated on doing exactly as I should, suck in a little smoke at first and inhale the second drag.

"It is stronger. Much stronger," I said, hit at once by the nicotine.

"You like it?"

"It's okay," I said and inhaled.

The nice tingle in my head was much more forceful now. So was my immediate alertness.

"Now start the engine," Herr Schwarzbach commanded.

I pushed the clutch with my bare foot and turned the key. Soon I found space in the light late morning traffic to move the BMW from the row of parked cars.

I had got into the routine of smoking while driving and I finished my cigarette and driving lesson without problems.

"You seem to have got the hang of it," Herr Schwarzbach said as we pulled up in front of the driving school.

"You mean the smoking?"

"And the driving. Actually, I don't think I can offer you the next lesson for free for just smoking one cigarette."

"You can't?"

"No. Next time you will have to smoke all the time while driving. Otherwise, I'll have to charge you."

"You mean... chain-smoke? Like your ex-wife?"

"Yes. Unless you want to pay me?"

"But I can't."

"Too bad. That leaves you with one option, Antje, doesn't it."

"I guess so."

6.

"This guy wants you to chain-smoke?" Hannah asked over dinner.

"Apparently."

"This is getting ridiculous."

"Maybe. But I guess I just need a few more lessons to get the license. And I don't have the money to pay for them."

"I think chain-smoking is a whole different ballgame from just enjoying an occasional cigarette."

"I wouldn't say I enjoyed them."

"But you just admitted that you don't find the taste disgusting anymore."

"Not disgusting is not the same as enjoying."

"And you said that you got more alert and focused."

"Yes. Maybe."

"Anyway... if you're going to chain-smoke your way through a whole driving lesson, you're going to throw up again. Unless..."

"Unless what?"

"Unless you practise. You go down and buy a pack of cigarettes and smoke them for me. You have to be prepared."

"So you will practise with me?"

"I'm not going to smoke. There's no need for that. But I'll watch and support you."

"And when I'm addicted, will you also help me quit?"

"Addicted? I don't think you'll get addicted to something you don't enjoy."

Hannah did the dishes while I went outside in the rain to buy a pack of Marlboro Reds and a lighter.

"Does it bother you if I smoke in here?" I asked as we sat down at the table with two cups of coffee and my cigarettes and lighter between us.

"Don't be silly. It's raining outside. And I support you. You can smoke in here as much as you want to."

I looked at the Marlboro pack.

"What if I don't want to?"

"You do. We're going to Madrid! Remember?"

"All right!"

I opened the pack, fished out a cigarette and placed the filter between my lips. I lit it, blew smoke into the healthy clean air of our living room and tried to wave away the toxic cloud with my hand:

"Sorry about this! It is so awkward!" I smiled.

"No. It's okay. Don't worry!"

I took in a portion of smoke and inhaled it into my lungs. It was a well-known sensation by now and the taste in my mouth was familiar. I exhaled smoke and tried to direct it away from my roommate.

"You smoke like a pro, girl!" Hannah encouraged me.

"Thanks. I think," I replied and took another drag from my Marlboro.

Hannah got up and got me a saucer. I immediately flipped off my ash in it.

"It's easy enough," I informed her. "There's really nothing to it. It's just a question of getting used to it."

A few minutes later I had smoked the cigarette down to the filter.

"Would you like another cigarette?" Hannah asked and offered me the pack.

"I don't know if like is the right word. But I'll have one anyway," I smiled.

I was about to butt out the first cigarette on the saucer. But Hannah stopped me:

"No no no! You need to light your second cigarette with your first! Like a true chain-smoker!"

"Okay."

I picked a new cigarette from the pack, took the last drag from the first and lit the second with it.

"Piece of cake!" I smiled as I before I stubbed out the smoked cigarette on the saucer.

"I think I could get used to this!" I smiled after a couple of drags.

"So now you're actually enjoying it?" Hannah asked.

"Maybe. There's this funny tingle in my head."

After my second Marlboro I needed a break. And I only smoked half of the third before I had to give up. Later I had trouble sleeping. And when I woke up the following morning I had like a hangover and a bad taste in my mouth. I has to spit out an unusual amount of slime to clear my throat before brushing my teeth.

"Good morning," Hannah said, drinking a cup of coffee in our kitchen that smelled of old smoke.

"Morning. I don't know about good. My head hurts."

"That'll pass. Have some coffee. And maybe a cigarette?"

"You think that's a good idea? I have this oral exam tomorrow. I need to study."

"What an excellent chance to test Herr Schwarzbachs theories. Here! Have a cigarette before breakfast! Remember: It's scientifically proven that smoking helps you focus and get rid of your nervousness."

Hannah pushed the Marlboro pack towards me. And it worked. I studied into the night on coffee and cigarettes, completely focused.

7.

Thursday, I woke up to a rainy day and went into my new, scientifically proven routine of a cigarette before breakfast. I smoked another as I put on makeup, dressed for the exam and left home with an umbrella in one hand and a burning cigarette in the other. I had two cigarettes in the smoking area at uni and didn't feel any nervousness as I went in and did really well at the exam.

It kept raining all day, and I arrived shortly before four o'clock at the driving school. Herr Schwarzbach was waiting in the BMW that, obviously, had its roof closed for the rain.

I folded my umbrella, as I got in at the driver's seat and closed the door. I took off my stilettos and picked up the Marlboros from my purse.

"I hope you don't mind my smoking?" I asked with a sarcastic smile.

"Why would I mind?"

"I mean... now that it's not an open car. It'll get awfully smoky in here. And I'm going to smoke all the time. Remember?"

"We're in the middle of an experiment," Herr Schwarzbach said. "Let's get on with it."

"Okay!" I said and lit up before starting the engine. I adjusted seat and mirrors with the cigarette in my mouth. And soon we were in the middle of dense traffic in a smoke-filled car.

When my first cigarette was almost down to the filter, Herr Schwarzbach broke the silence:

"Now you need to light another cigarette with the one you're just finishing."

"I know. Like a true chain-smoker," I smiled.

Still holding my burning cigarette with my left hand, which was on the steering wheel, I picked up the pack with my right and took out another cigarette with my lips like I had practised at home. I flipped of the ash of my short cigarette and held it to the tip of the one in my mouth and sucked forcefully for the glow to jump from one cigarette to another. I put the smoked cigarette out in the ashtray.

"I like the way you keep your eyes on the road," Herr Schwarzbach commented.

Chain-smoking went smoothly. I lit one cigarette with the other and only worried that my supply would last until the end of the lesson. Luckily, it did. And as I parked the BMW in front of the driving school, there was still one cigarette left in the pack.

"I think you're ready for the test," Herr Schwarzbach commented as I butted out my cigarette in the car's ashtray.

"Already?"

"Yes. This was perfect. If you can do drive like this at the test, you'll have your license."

"I was wondering..."

"Yes?"

"Do you think I can smoke at the test?"

I said this as a joke. But Herr Schwarzbach seemed to take it seriously.

"Normally not, Antje. But I'll see what I can do."

I made a point of lighting the last cigarette in the pack. I crumbled the empty pack and put it down between us.

"May I leave this with you?"

"Absolutely. I'll throw it out."

"Thank you!"

I put the cigarette in my mouth, picked up my sandals and purse from the back, opened the door and unfolded the umbrella. Then I walked away barefoot through the deep puddles on the street and sidewalk.

8.

It was a hot and sunny afternoon. I had arrived well before the test and had to wait for 15 minutes outside the driving school. I was wearing my tight black and yellow strap dress that exposed a maximum of skin and looked down the street for the purple BMW when I heard my name behind me.

"Antje!"

I turned around and found myself in the middle of Pascal's hug. He held me, as I exhaled cigarette smoke over his shoulder.

"I didn't know you smoked!" he smiled and looked at the cigarette in my hand.

"But I do, obviously," I said and made a point of taking another deep drag to prove it.

"You want?" I asked and held out my burning cigarette with lipstick on the filter. "Or you can have one for yourself. I've brought a pack."

"No thanks. I don't smoke. But I'm tolerant with smokers."

"That' nice!"

"Yes. Isn't it? What are you doing here anyway?"

"I'm waiting for my driving test to start in five minutes," I said and used my cigarette to point to the façade of Herr Schwarzbach's driving school.

"Oh. Today's your big day. And here am I, breaking into your mental preparations. Sorry, Antje! I didn't know."

"Don't be sorry! I'm glad to see you."

"I almost didn't recognize you. You're so tall in those heels."

Pascal looked all the way down my legs.

We stood there for a moment, smiling at each other.

"I'm sorry. You're busy and need to concentrate," he broke the silence.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Herr Schwarzbach's BMW pull up at the curb.

"There comes my driving test," I said.

"Yes. Good luck!"

"Thank you."

We hugged again and parted. Pascal walked down the street. I took a last drag from my cigarette and extinguished it with my sandal before walking toward the BMW that had it's roof down.

In the passenger seat, next to Herr Schwarzbach, there was a tall man in his sixties. They left the car and came toward me.

"This is Frau Hinrichsen. This is Herr von Storch, our examiner," he introduced us.

We shook hands.

"Herr Schwarzbach explained to me that you want to drive barefoot," the examiner said.

"Yes. If it's all right with you?"

"Absolutely. Some people feel they have a better grip of the pedals like that. And I was also informed that you want to smoke during the test."

"There's no need. I'll be fine. I just had a cigarette."

"No. But it's fine. We're in an open car, so I have no objection to that. On the contrary. It gives me the opportunity to enjoy my pipe. I used to smoke all the time during work in earlier years."

"That's nice. Let's get to it then."

I started walking toward he BMW.

"Good luck, Antje!" Herr Schwarzbach said.

We got into the car. I removed my sandals and adjusted seat and mirrors. I put my handbag and sandals in the back and my Marlboro pack next to me. Then pushed the clutch and I turned the key, switched on the left indicator, looked back and carefully manoeuvred the BMW into traffic.

15 minutes into the test my right hand automatically pushed the cigarette lighter, picked a cigarette from the pack and placed it in my mouth, while I kept my eyes on the traffic. I lit it and enjoyed pulling the smoke into my lungs and the immediate nicotine boost in my brain.

45 minutes later we were back in front of the driving school where Herr von Storch signed a piece of paper that was my temporary driver's license.

Herr Schwarzbach emerged from the driving school to congratulate me as I buckled my sandals and got out of the BMW.

"As I explained to you, Frau Hinrichsen needs her cigarettes to take the edge off when she drives," he said to the examiner while I lit another Marlboro to come down after the excitement.

"Oh," Herr von Storch said with a smile. "There's nothing to be nervous about. You're an excellent driver."

"Thank you!" I said and blew out smoke.

The examiner said goodbye and left my driving instructor and me in front of the driving school.

9.

"I want to thank you for letting me have these lessons for free, Herr Schwarzbach," I said and inhaled deeply.

"Call me Gerd, please. And you're welcome. I was wondering... do you have to be somewhere?"

"Right now? I guess I ought to be at home, studying for my next exam," I said and accompanied each word with a cloud of smoke as I spoke.

"I'm sure you'll have time to come inside for a small celebration."

"A celebration? Is that normal?"

"Sometimes. With my favourite students," he smiled and held out his hand to lead me inside the driving school.

I went ahead and paused at the door.

"Let me just get rid of this," I said and inhaled from my half-smoked cigarette.

"You can smoke inside, Antje!"

"Oh, thank you!" I said, shrugged and stepped inside on my high heels.

I was standing between the rows of chairs and the walls covered with colourful traffic signs as Herr Schwarzbach (or Gerd, as I was supposed to call him now that he was no longer my instructor) went to the small kitchen. He came back with an ice-cold bottle of Prosecco, two tall glasses and an ashtray.

The room was pleasantly cool compared to the strong sunlight outside. My former driving instructor put down the ashtray and glasses on one of the chairs and started working on the cork.

"I hope you don't blame me for persuading you to become a smoker, Antje?"

"No. I did it out of my own free will. Besides, I have really come to like the taste and the effect it has on me. It makes me relax and concentrate and allows me to stay up late to study. Exactly what you need as a law student."

"Excellent!"

He popped the cork with a loud bang and hurried to pour the foaming wine into our glasses. He then handed me one and raised the other:

"Herzlichen Glückwunsch!"

"Danke!"

We drank.

"This has been a very interesting experiment for me. Even though it's not the first time I've done it."

"It isn't?" I asked and emptied my glass.

"No. You remember I told you about my ex-wife?"

"The chain-smoker?"

Gerd Schwarzbach smiled as he filled my glass.

"Yes. Her. I met her 13 years ago when she was learning to drive. I was working for another driving school before I started my own."

I took another drag from my cigarette as he continued.

"She was incredibly nervous at each lesson. Until I suggested that she smoked a cigarette. You have to know she didn't smoke when we met. But we found out that a cigarette was exactly right to give her the necessary confidence. She became an excellent driver. And to this day she mostly has a cigarette between her fingers when she drives."

"I see," I said, slightly distracted by the text message beep from my phone. "I'm sorry, I just have to get this."

It was from Hannah:

"How did it go?" it said.

Herr Schwarzbach was in the middle of his story, so I figured I'd wait texting her back.

"Please go on: And then you got together?" I encouraged him.

"Yes. I remember we were celebrating after the test the way we do now, and then we somehow started kissing and within a year we were married."

"Oh."

I still held the phone in my hand when a second text message arrived. Hannah again:

"Are you all right? Where are you?"

"Sorry!" I said and put down my empty glass on a chair. "I just need to answer this to make it stop. It's my roommate who wants to know about the test."

"No problem!" he said and filled my glass.

"I've got the license. I'm still at the driving school. Drinking Prosecco with my driving instructor," I wrote and looked back at Herr Schwarzbach.

"I'm back!"

"Yes. I want you to know that this has been very special to me, Antje. Sitting next to you in the car and watching you smoke so elegantly."

"It has?"

"Yes. I really enjoy watching beautiful women when they smoke cigarettes. It can be so incredibly sensual. And I think there is a special relationship between us now."

"In what way?" I asked when another text message ruined my concentration. "Sorry. I think I have to answer this to make it stop."

There was yet another text message sound from my phone and I shrugged, smiled at Herr Schwarzbach and rolled my eyes.

My cigarette was smoked down to the filter, so I butted it out in the ashtray before looking at my phone.

Hannah had sent me the following:

"Yippie! And we've got the camper van this summer!"

I returned a smiley-face and a thumbs-up emoji and put another cigarette between my lips. Herr Schwarzbach grabbed my lighter at lit it for me.

The second text message was from Pascal:

"Did you pass?" he asked.

I copied the first reply to Hannah and sent it to Pascal as well: "I've got the license. I'm still at the driving school. Drinking Prosecco with my driving instructor."

I took another drag from my cigarette and put the phone down on the chair and picked up my glass.

"I'm sorry. I know this is annoying. But my friends want to know about the test."

"Of course. This is a big day."

He raised his glass, and we drank. I emptied mine as the hot weather had made me real thirsty.

"Where were we?" I asked as Herr Schwarzbach poured delicious Prosecco into the glass I was holding out.

"I was just saying that it has been an incredible experience to sit next to you and watch you smoke. And I really like the way your tattooed feet with those bright red toenails have operated the accelerator, brake and clutch."

"Really?" I asked, trying to ignore another beep from my phone.

"Yes. Normally I'm not supposed to allow a student to smoke while driving or to drive barefoot. But in your case, I just had to. I think you are incredibly hot with those tattoos and the way you have become such a passionate smoker."

"But, Herr Schwarzbach... I..."

"Please call me Gerd. I wonder if we could continue our celebration at a restaurant here in the neighbourhood. I took the liberty of making a reservation..."

I butted out my half-smoked Marlboro in the ashtray.

"I'm sorry! I really need to go home and study now. I have an important exam next week," I explained and emptied my fourth... or whatever... glass of Prosecco.

"Relax, Antje! You'll be fine. And besides I think that you'll be too tipsy to do any serious reading now anyway."

"Don't worry. I'll have no problem studying now," I said, realizing that he was right and that I would in no way be able to read a lawbook for the rest of the day. On top of that I badly needed to pee.

"Can I use the toilet, please?"

"Sure. It's just down the hallway. On your right."