Chesapeake Smoke

Well, I have to hand it to Mike, our newest tobacconist. I’d never been a big fan of Graycliff, they always struck me as overpriced boutique cigars made exclusively for the Graycliff Hotel. And those I’d tried were mild, as if they were blended so mild as not to offend anyone.

But Mike prevailed upon me to try a Graycliff Chateau Grand Cru on Saturday. And a nice smoke it was! Smooth, mild to medium, but with some body and character.

Always nice to find a new and pleasant smoke.

So, you’re asking, why did it take me until Wednesday to write about something I smoked over the weekend? Well, I was distracted. I was busy anticipating (and dreading) round two of treatments for my back. I got two epidural steroid injections in my lower back on Monday, and the thoughts of that kind of occupied my mind. But I’m all right now, sports fans, the drugs are working their magic.

So I’m happy, healthy, and pain-free, and back on my regular Wednesday night shift at Titan. Slow night so far, the weather (high heat index and threats of thunderstorms) is probably keeping people home. Can’t say as I blame them. Oh well, I’ll sit here, waiting for the hordes to come in later tonight, and tackle a Tatuaje as I wait.

Happy smoking!

Well, I’ve been casting about for something to inspire me. I want to write something meaningful, not just fire off a bunch of ones and zeroes in a vain effort to add data to the blogosphere.

And something happend last night.

Working my usual Wednesday night shift at Titan, I attended to the fine tobacco needs of two ladies. The first to come in brought a colleague from work … Fort Meade, NSA spooks. She was the cigar aficianado, he the novice. She ordered up the smokes. And the drinks. I was duly impressed.

Then the bimbo came in. Okay, maybe not a classic bimbo (she was too old for that), but a bimbo in spirit. Her husband got a real smoke, but she wanted a “girlie cigar.” That’s just how she asked for it. She was cool to my response that we don’t discriminate sexually in cigar shops, and that women are free to smoke whatever men smoke. No, this one wanted a girlie cigar. So I gave her a Heaven. One of those skinny, short-filler, hideously-flavored dog rockets. And she loved it. Maybe the Grand Marnier she was drinking helped cover up the taste.

Any women of the opposite sex reading this? Then know this … I treat everyone equally at the store, as long as you’re over 18 (over 21 if you want a drink) and in control of your faculties. I don’t sell girlie cigars any more than I sell Jew-boy cigars (Jay, this one’s for you!).

Speaking of which, while cruising the web yesterday, I saw that Kinky Friedman has his own line of cigars out, one of which, the torpedo, is called — you guessed it — the Texas Jewboy. Can’t wait to try one, I’m ordering a sampler pack today. Here’s the link: http://www.kinkycigars.com/kinky_s_cigar_store.

I’m back there on Saturday, looking for more cigars and more inspiration.

In the meantime, happy smoking!