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Social Outcast Finds Acceptance Through Smoking HOLTSVILLE, NY -- Before he started smoking, tax planner Bruce Jeffries suffered from high stress, unfulfilling work, and "kind-of a drinking problem." A lifelong bachelor, his weight hovered close to the 300-pound mark and his social life consisted almost entirely of evenings alone with the television. Under the debilitating strain of a life governed by monotony, he turned to tobacco to calm his nerves and to allow himself the one solitary flare of pleasure in an otherwise barren life. And he couldn't believe the difference. "I used to wake up, hung-over, and a wave of dread would wash over me when I remembered who I was," said Jeffries. "But now, since I started smoking, I've been flooded with attention and compliments about my sophistication and my sleek, sexy ways." In contrast with governmental efforts to depict smokers as hapless cancerbound addicts, Jeffries has found friendship and community through his tobacco use. Whenever he lights up, a group of athletic young women mysteriously appear, with nothing on their minds but having a good time with Bruce Jeffries. "It was only 2 months ago that I tried my first cigarette and puked," Jeffries remembers proudly. "But after I tried a couple more I started to like it, and about an hour later Kimberley appeared out of nowhere." As the nicotine flowed through Jeffries' bloodstream, Kimberly Cresswell, a statuesque spokesmodel who once briefly dated the members of Duran Duran, stepped out of his overfilled closet and invited him to the beach. The couple donned matching white bathing suits and played with a colorful beachball for several hours. Throughout the afternoon, and even during the ensuing bout of limb-bending sex, Jeffries never once allowed the magical cigarette to stray from his lips. "The only problem was that we fell asleep, and one my cigs set the bed on fire," Jeffries recounts ruefully. "Fortunately, my spokesmodel friend is in a lot better shape than I am, and she carried me to safety." Jeffries' transformation has not gone unnoticed by his co-workers. Where once there was an oafish but efficient bureaucrat, there is now an irresistible, effervescent Lothario. "I always thought smokers had been brainwashed by corporate America into dependence and premature agonizing death," said Walter Levanthal, an estate planner who works in Jeffries' office. "But I never realized that an image could be so much more." Given the spectacular success of his initial experimentation with substance-based hedonism, Jeffries has begun trying other drugs, including paint thinner, glue, and liverwurst in bulk quantities. "I like hitting off the exhaust pipe of my Capri," Jeffries said. "You see some freaky colors, man."