Getting out of Dipville

by goodbyecope 2003

Dipville is a disgusting place full of disease, slow but certain death, lies, deceit, and filth. The residents of Dipville appear to be normal to each other, but rather strange to outsiders. You see, the residents of Dipville all have this habit of frequently packing their lower lips full of this dirt-like substance. This substance goes by many names: dip, snuff, and chew to name a few. It comes in a convenient round can about the size of a hockey puck and is to the resident of Dipville a necessity, a life-giving substance, something to plan one’s entire day/life around. In a sense these cans are very much the Dipvillian’s best friend and yet at the same time their worst friend. To anybody living outside of Dipville, this practice is disgusting and foul and the outsiders think the residents of Dipville are quite pathetic and sad and gross.

Dipvillians have a strange keeness of always knowing where their little can is at all times. They always have an inventory in their heads about how much dirt they have left in the can and the approximate time that it will run out. This way, they can time their stop to purchase a brand-new can of this life-sustaining dirt just in time for the old can to run out. There is a ritual to breaking the seal on a new can, packing the contents and stuffing the lip. There are variations on the procedures, but it remains a constant among all residents that it is a daily ritual performed several times during the day.

There are a few problems with the dirt that must be explained. Beyond the fact that it creates brown ooze in the Dipvillians’ mouths that must be either spat or swallowed, there are much more serious aspects. This dirt causes the mind of the Dipvillian to become extremely dependent on it. Not remembering to insert the dirt into his mouth will make a Dipvillian dizzy, mean, cranky, unable to concentrate, and just plain miserable. This is one of the ways that residents are encouraged to stay in Dipville. The dirt creates painful sores in the mouth. These sores often turn into lesions and eventually (with enough dirt) will turn into cancer. Mouth and throat cancer is almost always a death sentence. Needless to say, there are many Dipvillians who will get this cancer if they don’t figure out a way to get out of Dipville.

Some of the residents of Dipville really live just beyond the city limits. They themselves are as much residents as the others, but the difference is that their families don’t know that they frequently sneak into town to be with their can and stuff their lips with dirt. They lie through their dirt stained teeth just to have some time in Dipville. Some of the residents have been living in Dipville since they were 10 or 11 years old. It’s no surprise to find residents of Dipville that have been there for 30+ years.

It is incredibly expensive to live in Dipville. Just buying a fresh can of dirt each day can cost the Dipvillian anywhere from $120-$150 per month. The cost is increased by needing to continually purchase new containers to spit the brown ooze into. Frequently Dipvillians buy a soda each day just for the container to deposit the ooze. This increases the cost of living another $30-$40 per month. Increased use of gasoline to make strange trips to the store, bank, etc. (just to have a mouth of dirt) can add another $20-30 per month. So for the average Dipvillian, their lifestyle costs them from $170-$220 every month. Couple this with the cancer risk, and there’s a real sacrifice being made to remain in Dipville.

Most of the residents of Dipville have tried to leave many times, only to find the move too difficult. So they make-up excuses about how difficult and trying life is outside of Dipville, or that they just want to take a short ride back through Dipville and have just one more can (which almost always turns into 10, 50, 100 cans …) Or they take a little trip into Smokeville and the little sticks of dirt there remind them of the little cans of dirt in Dipville and before they realize it, they are right back in Dipville enslaved to their old ways.

Most of the long-time residents of Dipville hate living there. They are tired of the smell, tired of the slimy brown ooze coming out of their mouths, tired of the lies they tell to their loved ones just so they can remain living in Dipville. They are tired of their mouths hurting, tired of wasting their money on cans of dirt, tired of being a slave to the little cans, tired of hiding. They are just plain tired of living, breathing and slowly dying in Dipville and want to move out for good. Countless numbers of the residents have tried to move away, but have come right back to their old homes in Dipville.

The best/worst thing about living in Dipville is the bridge. This is not an ordinary bridge, but rather it is the bridge to Freedomville, a wonderful place that is actually visible from Dipville. Freedomville is so beautiful. Nobody uses dirt in Freedomville, nobody has brown ooze coming out of their mouths in Freedomville, nobody is chained to a can in Freedomville. They don’t have to lie about dirt in Freedomville, they don’ waste their money on dirt in Freedomville, they don’t make up errands to run so they can stuff their lips with dirt in Freedomville.

Some of the residents of Freedomville have lived there all their lives. Some used to live in Dipville and have relocated permanently to Freedomville.

And there’s the sad crowd of those that only live in Freedomville for a few weeks, days, hours, minutes at a time before crossing the bridge back into Dipville. They cross the bridge into Freedomville, try to assimilate, and try to stay out of Dipville, but they’re missing something. They still see the bridge to Dipville as being open to them. They remember that the can of dirt they used to love is right there in Dipville just waiting for them. They remember all they activities they used to do with their can at their side. What they don’t do is see themselves as full-fledged residents of Freedomville. They don’t look at the bridge and remember that “The bridge to Dipville is off-limits today”.

Fellow quitters, we’re in Freedomville right now. The bridge to Dipville is there. But we must believe that today we are truly residents of Freedomville. We must believe that the bridge is off limits to us today. We must believe that it is fully within our control to not cross the bridge to Dipville today. We must remember how disgusting Dipville really is. We must believe that we will never drive through Dipville again for the rest of our lives. We must remember that the can we loved was going to kill us. We must remember that in Dipville we become dishonest and ugly, un-trustworthy and scheming, we become slaves to the dirt of Dipville.

The stresses of daily living will come our way every day. Let’s face those stresses in Freedomville, not Dipville. No crossing the bridge today! Dipville is off limits!

Used with permission from the Quit Smokeless Organization