I gave up, for good, in the summer of ‘69. That New Years Eve, bringing in the new millennium, I was in the village pub with my sister and her husband who had come over for the night. When midnight struck, I finally caved and lit up one of her Silk Cut, I gagged on it immediately. I don’t know what caused that, as I’d been a Marlboro and Camel smoker for years, but it just hit my throat and almost made me throw up. Never had the slightest inclination to have one since. Funnily enough, I sometimes have dreams about being a smoker and enjoying it. Weird.
Before that, I must’ve tried and failed a good handful of times. Keep trying, you never now when it’ll finally stick, or how.