A Fresh Can

I have a very bad habit. Well, more than one bad habit. But this one in particular is not very esthetically appealing, and tends to gross out most people.

I chew. You could be reading that and say "so do I. During breakfast, lunch, dinner, snacks. Who doesn't chew?" Different type of chew. I chew tobacco, more accurately, I dip. To the uneducated, they may not understand the difference. There is chew, and there is dip. Chew is the actual tobacco leaves, while dip is ground up.

To dip, you simply take a pinch of tobacco and slide it between your cheek and your gums, and enjoy the ride to flavor town. Skoal Straight is my flavor. It's natural, robust, potent, and masculine; just like me.

I collect my empty cans. I put them on display to show off my habit proudly, and add a bit of decoration to my living area. Currently, they are above the bar in my apartment, holding up a Canadian flag, next to some empty liquor bottles that remind me of some GREAT nights this year!

I just cracked a fresh can of dip. Delicious. The can is packed full, and it seems near impossible to take the first pinch. It is very exciting, and I am very anxious to do so.

It could be hard to understand, but having a dip in is a symbol that your a ball player. It is calming, euphoric, enjoyable, and part of the image. Nothing is better than hanging out with a buddy, and shooting in a pinch. Dip helps long bus rides go faster, and makes long games even better.

So as gross as it is to see, I can proclaim proudly, I fire in bombs, drop hammers, pack heaters, go around the world, and fill my lip. And in no way do I find that depressing. Tossing in a dip just seems to make life a pinch better;).