I started dipping in sixth grade. All the boys dipped on the playground. It was crazy that they let us do that. Then again, that was when we were still mostly free. We had knives in our front pockets, Skoal in the back.
Just a pinch between cheek and gums...
And shotguns in the headache racks, shells rolling around on the floorboard and the pickup windows rolled down in the school parking lot.