So I've been sick as a dog with a head / chest cold the last couple of weeks, jonesin' for a cigar mighty bad... when I thought to myself "Screw it!" blast the nose with salt water, take some sinus medicine and go smoke a good one at the bar.
So I'm the first guy through the door, order a Erdinger Dunkel Weizen and fire up a Padrón 1926.
And life is treating me OK. I win two games of 8-ball and get my stogie down to around the 2 inch mark, its tasting mighty fine and I'm enjoying myself.
And then it happens.
"Rachel" walks in the door, a half-way decent looking girl, nothing to write home about but a lady most guys wouldn't kick outta bed unless it was to make more room on the floor. And she is dripping in Eu de Sarin.
My nostrils clamp shut, tears come to my eyes and I start to have one of the coughing spasms that make the people around you think you got TB.
"HI SHAWN!" she says, oblivious to me making the universal signs for chemical warfare with my arms... "HOW ARE YOU TONIGHT?"
I draw in half a lung full of air and squeak out "OK... errr excuse me I need to go outside for a sec."
I get a bit of fresh air and come back inside only to find that my wonderful 1926 now tastes like an Lars Teten and that my beer has been converted to a glass of acidic swill.
I regrettably put out my poor cigar... handed what was left of my beer to the bartender to pour away and pay my tab and left.
It has been now about 45 mins and my throat is still sore from the chemical warfare Rachel conducted upon me.
Yes Virgina, there are worse perfumes out there as Grandma's lilac water, and I experienced one tonight.
Lung Scarred in Grafenwöhr - Wurm
So I'm the first guy through the door, order a Erdinger Dunkel Weizen and fire up a Padrón 1926.
And life is treating me OK. I win two games of 8-ball and get my stogie down to around the 2 inch mark, its tasting mighty fine and I'm enjoying myself.
And then it happens.
"Rachel" walks in the door, a half-way decent looking girl, nothing to write home about but a lady most guys wouldn't kick outta bed unless it was to make more room on the floor. And she is dripping in Eu de Sarin.
My nostrils clamp shut, tears come to my eyes and I start to have one of the coughing spasms that make the people around you think you got TB.
"HI SHAWN!" she says, oblivious to me making the universal signs for chemical warfare with my arms... "HOW ARE YOU TONIGHT?"
I draw in half a lung full of air and squeak out "OK... errr excuse me I need to go outside for a sec."
I get a bit of fresh air and come back inside only to find that my wonderful 1926 now tastes like an Lars Teten and that my beer has been converted to a glass of acidic swill.
I regrettably put out my poor cigar... handed what was left of my beer to the bartender to pour away and pay my tab and left.
It has been now about 45 mins and my throat is still sore from the chemical warfare Rachel conducted upon me.
Yes Virgina, there are worse perfumes out there as Grandma's lilac water, and I experienced one tonight.
Lung Scarred in Grafenwöhr - Wurm
