I left work at the firm and went to pick up a disk and papers from a friend with some freelance work for me to do. Walking down Third Avenue as people rushed to work on the sidewalk all around me, I looked up at an overcast sky. It was quite breezy too, but towards the downtown area I saw a break in the clouds and wondered whether it was coming or going. Then a few blocks later I looked west and saw nothing but clear skies heading toward us, then up at the clouds above me, and sure enough, they were moving out toward the east.
After picking up the work from my friend at her job, I decided that I would walk the three and a half to four miles to my next client and risk smoking a cigar on a breezy day.
I pulled out a Punch Gran Puro from my Havana Pocket Humidor, a Churchill sized cigar with an oily looking wrapper. I lit the cigar at 0909 hours. Perfect construction, reddish brown wrapper, cut nice and drew perfectly. The first inch of this cigar was rather harsh tasting, then it burst into, . . .
what else can I say? . . .
RAISINETS!!!!!
I'm not kidding. For the rest of the smoke, there were flavors of chocolate covered raisins with dates, figs and fresh out of the bag, unlit charcoal briquets, but with the lighter fluid already applied. I took the route that led to Central Park, enjoying what turned into a beautiful, sunny, true spring day with the breeze subsiding and the sun warming me and the earth nicely. The park was peaceful, serene, just perfect for my cigar, with people going about their various work and play activities for the day.
I exited towards the Yupper West Side and stood still to enjoy the sun, remembering the short, but quite sweet walk through the park, and the peaceful moments that can still come in this all too crazy world. I savored the last few puff of the cigar, and after 66 minutes, at 1015 hours I reluctantly tossed the very short nub. I crossed Central Park West, heading west, and I chuckled to myself as I looked right and saw that I was on 66th Street.
After picking up the work from my friend at her job, I decided that I would walk the three and a half to four miles to my next client and risk smoking a cigar on a breezy day.
I pulled out a Punch Gran Puro from my Havana Pocket Humidor, a Churchill sized cigar with an oily looking wrapper. I lit the cigar at 0909 hours. Perfect construction, reddish brown wrapper, cut nice and drew perfectly. The first inch of this cigar was rather harsh tasting, then it burst into, . . .
what else can I say? . . .
RAISINETS!!!!!
I'm not kidding. For the rest of the smoke, there were flavors of chocolate covered raisins with dates, figs and fresh out of the bag, unlit charcoal briquets, but with the lighter fluid already applied. I took the route that led to Central Park, enjoying what turned into a beautiful, sunny, true spring day with the breeze subsiding and the sun warming me and the earth nicely. The park was peaceful, serene, just perfect for my cigar, with people going about their various work and play activities for the day.
I exited towards the Yupper West Side and stood still to enjoy the sun, remembering the short, but quite sweet walk through the park, and the peaceful moments that can still come in this all too crazy world. I savored the last few puff of the cigar, and after 66 minutes, at 1015 hours I reluctantly tossed the very short nub. I crossed Central Park West, heading west, and I chuckled to myself as I looked right and saw that I was on 66th Street.
