tomthirtysix
Wishing I was as cool as Phil
On weekends, I do security at a local bar for a little extra pocket money. 10p - 4ish am, don't miss time with the family, and it keeps my humidor full, and my son busy during the summer.
So, every night, I bring something with me since I'm usually at the back door. Usually something at least robusto in size, and never anything too high end. I made that mistake once, and about 1/3 into it, I was called inside, and when I finally got back to it, it disappeared. Must have rolled off the wall I had it on or something.
Every night, I light up at 1am, the midpoint of the night, and it usually takes me to the point in the night when the bar is dying down. Also, by this time, most of the people inside are drunk. They come out side to have their cigarettes, and everyone has some kind of comment on my cigar.
Most of the time, the first thing out of their mouth is "Is that a Cuban?" Depending on my mood, they'll get the truth, or some fantastic story about how I brought these back from a dinner with Fidel himself. And, without fail, everyone tells me they have a "cheap Cuban source," and can get me everything. As a matter of fact, they have a couple boxes at home, and will bring me one next time. If half the people that said this brought me a cigar, I probably would never have to buy again.
Well, last night, it finally happened. A guy walks up to the front door, smoking a cigar. The guy in front is new to cigars, and I'm trying to take him under my wing and impart a little knowledge. He strikes up a conversation with the guy, and finds out he's smoking a Partagas Serie D #4, "from Cuba." He offers the doorman, not one, but two of these same sticks. So, he brings the second one back to me. He goes back up front to smoke his, and he thoroughly enjoyed it.
One a.m. rolls around, and I figure I have nothing to lose. Instead of lighting the Brazilia Gol I brought with me, I'll give this a whirl. Now, I've never seen this particular cigar before, so I have nothing to go on. I'm not well-versed in Cuban-ology as well. But, I was determined to make this a learning experience.
Had nothing to measure it with, couldn't even get a good close look at the wrapper since it was dark. But, there was a nice triple cap, and from first inspection, it looked well-made. Upon further review, I was starting to doubt it (besides the fact that some stranger is passing them out like nothing up front). The cigar was very soft, and the foot looked suspicious.
Flame to foot, and I knew immediately this was not what it was supposed to be. Terrible, terrible taste. Only made it through an inch and a half, maybe two. And it went out twice. The ash was black as night. I radioed the guy at the front door to come to the back for a little lesson.
Taking my cue from Prof. Wilkey, I split the cigar in half to show him what it was he just smoked, and explained to him how the leaves should run the length of the cigar. Except half the crap that fell out of this thing looked like brown confetti. I really wish I had better light back there, or a table to better inspect the contents. But, it was a fun learning experience for me. Lesson learned.
So, every night, I bring something with me since I'm usually at the back door. Usually something at least robusto in size, and never anything too high end. I made that mistake once, and about 1/3 into it, I was called inside, and when I finally got back to it, it disappeared. Must have rolled off the wall I had it on or something.
Every night, I light up at 1am, the midpoint of the night, and it usually takes me to the point in the night when the bar is dying down. Also, by this time, most of the people inside are drunk. They come out side to have their cigarettes, and everyone has some kind of comment on my cigar.
Most of the time, the first thing out of their mouth is "Is that a Cuban?" Depending on my mood, they'll get the truth, or some fantastic story about how I brought these back from a dinner with Fidel himself. And, without fail, everyone tells me they have a "cheap Cuban source," and can get me everything. As a matter of fact, they have a couple boxes at home, and will bring me one next time. If half the people that said this brought me a cigar, I probably would never have to buy again.
Well, last night, it finally happened. A guy walks up to the front door, smoking a cigar. The guy in front is new to cigars, and I'm trying to take him under my wing and impart a little knowledge. He strikes up a conversation with the guy, and finds out he's smoking a Partagas Serie D #4, "from Cuba." He offers the doorman, not one, but two of these same sticks. So, he brings the second one back to me. He goes back up front to smoke his, and he thoroughly enjoyed it.
One a.m. rolls around, and I figure I have nothing to lose. Instead of lighting the Brazilia Gol I brought with me, I'll give this a whirl. Now, I've never seen this particular cigar before, so I have nothing to go on. I'm not well-versed in Cuban-ology as well. But, I was determined to make this a learning experience.
Had nothing to measure it with, couldn't even get a good close look at the wrapper since it was dark. But, there was a nice triple cap, and from first inspection, it looked well-made. Upon further review, I was starting to doubt it (besides the fact that some stranger is passing them out like nothing up front). The cigar was very soft, and the foot looked suspicious.
Flame to foot, and I knew immediately this was not what it was supposed to be. Terrible, terrible taste. Only made it through an inch and a half, maybe two. And it went out twice. The ash was black as night. I radioed the guy at the front door to come to the back for a little lesson.
Taking my cue from Prof. Wilkey, I split the cigar in half to show him what it was he just smoked, and explained to him how the leaves should run the length of the cigar. Except half the crap that fell out of this thing looked like brown confetti. I really wish I had better light back there, or a table to better inspect the contents. But, it was a fun learning experience for me. Lesson learned.
