john's financial incentive

my flat mate John and I made a bet with each other, we both put fifty dollars each in a glass jar on top of the fridge and agreed that from the next day if one of us had a cigarette the other one would claim the one hundred dollars.

The first few days were quite easy, a combination of greed and competitiveness, getting one up on the other, and the cravings would be softened somewhat by our humor, each trying to encourage the other to have a cigarette. John knew the mornings were hardest for me, a cig with my morning coffee was tradition and so he would describe in great detail the joys of smoking and lighting that first cigarette of the day, and he'd leave a cigarette and lighter on top of the kettle and when I ignored it he'd hold it to his nose like you would an expensive cigar and sniff the length of it crowing "mmmmm, how good it smells". One morning, a minute before my alarm clock sounded he sneaked into my room while I slept and placed a coffee and a ashtray containing a lit cigarette on my bedside table. I woke to the realization that this had become a battle of wills.

John didn’t just smoke cigarettes, he liked to have the occasional joint, so I’d invite his pot smoking buddies over and of course, they only ever talk about one thing, “pot” he’d squirm as they’d describe their latest sessions and how good the gear is from this new dealer how fat this joint was and how strong that one was and how this pipe is the best ever, they’d also argue that pot smoking shouldn’t be included in our bet because it was different from cigarettes, John and I both knew that that was hog wash but peer pressure from a group of pot heads can be quite heavy and poor john would glance from them to the jar on top of the fridge and back to them, and then to me, grinning like a mad man.

For two weeks this went on, we’d buy cigarettes to place strategically where the other would be tempted, I’d find cigarettes in my tool bag at work and John would find them in his desk, his pockets, and on the dash board of his car, we’d leave little notes on them, “please smoke me”.

We’d recruit our friends to encourage the other to smoke, some one would say “ hold this while I go to the toilet and thrust a lit cigarette in my hand”, I’d stand there while it burned away and then I’d notice john casually spying on me. “Nice try” I’d say, and he’d smile and deny all knowledge.

It was all good fun and the plotting kept our minds busy. Each evening our third flat mate who didn’t smoke, would have to smell us, for traces of tobacco smoke, she’s quite hot so we didn’t mind. John would watch suspiciously while Tuppy sniffed at my clothes, my fingers and my breath.

We hadn’t been out drinking or clubbing because we both knew that in that atmosphere with a few drinks in us it would be very hard to resist, but more than two weeks had passed, we were now non smokers and we were going out this Saturday. I got to the club a hour or so before john and I was quite comfortable being in the company of a lot of smokers and it wasn’t difficult not having a cigarette and even declining them when they were offered to me. I had a dance with my girlfriend and hot and thirsty I came back to the table I took a big drink from my glass of lager and took a drag of the lit cigarette in the ashtray next to it, and as I flicked the ash off into the ashtray I glanced up and saw John. I stopped dead as the cigarette was half way back to my mouth, “shit”. I stared at him but he was a couple tables away and was talking to a chick, so I threw the cigarette in the ashtray and pushed it away from me, I looked around to see if any one else had noticed, no one had.

My night was ruined, John was being too happy, when we spoke I looked for signs that he had seen me with the cigarette but he gave nothing away, except for him smiling like a constipated hyena.

The next day nothing was said all day but he was still suspiciously happy, I’d started to think there was another reason for his ecstasy and I was in the clear when he suddenly asked me between grinning teeth if I had a confession to make. I got the jar from off the fridge handed him the money congratulating him on his win. He slowly counted the money over and over, simultaneously preaching the dangers of smoking, savoring his victory just as I would have done, it was so painful that I had to have a cigarette, I tried to convince him that at least now I could have a smoke and fifty dollars was small price to pay for the pleasure but we both knew it had gone way beyond the money.

That was five years ago and john hasn’t had a cigarette since, I smoke more than ever, we still remain best friends but I’d never bet with him again..