When I was little, my dad would tend to bring home guests to have lunch with us. These people varied and would sometimes be relatives, sometimes friends other times acquaintances. Don Raul was a gentleman my dad brought home around 3 times. He really stuck out in my head because he was an unusually tall, lanky man with a sadness to him.
He was a construction worker, except he wore dress pants, clean work shirts and really awesome (HUGE) shoes. He looked like he had an office job.
Well, it happened one day that my father hired Don Raul to help us build a back room to our house. I would frequently go out back and play with little pieces of wood that were left over from the construction. Don Raul rarely spoke except to tell me to be careful. On his breaks, he would have a smoke. I would watch him light up, finish smoking and then he'd continue working.
One day, Don Raul didn't come to work.
But he left his ciggies.
Being the curious little monkey, little Sandra lit up and inhaled ... DEEEEEEEEPLY.
Little Sandra almost threw up.
I had never known such excruciating pain! It felt as though someone set my lungs and throat on fire! I tried to remain calm but I must have been hacking and gagging out there for what seemed hours. I felt so dizzy.
Well, lesson learned. I didn't like cigarettes.
To this day, every time I see a little packet of Marlboro's, I remember Don Raul and my smoking incident.