American Chronicles, The New Yorker, May 14, 2018 issue

The patio was crowded and lively, with people cramming in at the ends of long tables. I looked for little white plumes and counted three Juuls. Two people were smoking cigarettes in the corner, and I felt a twinge of longing. I liked cigarettes because they were gross and terrible for me—a way of confronting everyday stresses in a manner that seemed suitably destructive and illogical. The Juul, despite all the teenage Instagram feeds I’ve seen, feels clinical, sensible, virtuous. I didn’t like it—or, at least, I didn’t need it. I took an ostentatious farewell pull, coughed like a twelve-year-old, and, wreathed with cucumber-scented vapor, gave it away.’

The Promise of Vaping and the Rise of Juul By Jia Tolentino.

 

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