Worst:
My worst cigar experience came on March 29, 2007. I had won a contest run by Tasman and it contained an OpusX Fuente Fuente in it. Having read all of the hype surrounding Opus, it did not last long in my tupperdor before I fired it up on this horrid Thursday. I ate lunch, knowing that I would not be able to tackle this monster on an empty stomach. It was a gorgeous day outside. I forget the exact time, but I know it was about 2:45 PM because I had about two hours to finish this cigar before my 5:00 PM class. Most of the girls, probably six of the nine, next door were outside with most of the guys from my house playing basketball or tanning on the lawn. I pulled up a chair on the porch and sparked up. I quickly realized I was in for one hell of a ride. The flavor was deeper and richer than I had ever tasted in cigar. I was simply just determined to make it through it; having had several bad experiences with other cigars did not make me entirely confident! So I am enjoying the cigar; I call my brother to rub it in his face that I just lit up my first Opus. He was at the airport flying off to some location, so in turn I was more jealous than him by the end of the conversation. At the 4:30 mark, I’m not even close to done. I realize I’m either going to have to put this bad boy down or skip class. It turns out in the end, I probably should have put it down for a multitude of reasons, but at the time I was not putting this cigar down. I was going to finish. I was extremely perplexed by the amount of time this cigar was taking to smoke. I am always confused by people’s estimations of cigar smoking time, as mine are always double. Anyway, I digress. I remember some of the peculiarities of this Opus. My pallet is definitely way overwhelmed by this bugger, so I don’t taste anything on the inhale, but there is an explosion of flavor on the exhale. This continues on to about 5:15, when my cigar smoking buddy, Mike (Jimihendrix), pops his head out and decides to study before his exam while I smoke my cigar. After having a quick conversation with me, I realize that I should not be sitting down. I had no idea how incredibly nicotine sick I had become. I quickly stood up and decided to take a walk to try and see how bad it was. In fact, I was so far gone that I could barely walk. I simply staggered down a few steps and sat down. However, I persevered on! That stick stayed against my lips. At this point, Mike knew something was wrong. He noticed the green look on my face and started to ask if I was okay. He began offering me something to eat or drink, but I didn’t want to pollute the flavors of one of the best cigars produced today. After a few more minutes of Mike chuckling at me, I realized that the Opus had defeated me. I offered what was left to Mike and he graciously took it, curious as well to what all of the hype was surrounding the oh so holy Opus. I grabbed the pretzels out of Mike’s hands and began literally shoving them in my face, with most of them winding up on the ground, like a drunk who knows he has drank too much and is trying to settle his stomach so he doesn’t have to spend the night riding the porcelain bus. Mike found this part especially amusing, as I did feel like I had drank too much and was about to hurl. Mike continued smoking the Opus and I tried to gain the will power to make it inside to my bed. I asked him what he thought of the cigar and he thought it was fantastic. After that, I staggered inside to my bed and laid down. Here, I closed my eyes, but the nightmare wouldn’t end. I got the spins! With my eyes closed it just felt as if I was aboard the Gravitron at Wildwood’s Morey’s Pier and I thought I was doomed to throw up, which probably would’ve ended my cigar smoking days. As it turns out, the Gravitron shut down and I was able to fall asleep. When I woke up around 8:00 PM, I went out into the living room and proceeded to ask Mike how he liked the cigar. With only an inch or inch and a half left, I figured he couldn’t have gotten too much out of it. It turns out that that last inch had messed him up as well. He said that the cigar had made him feel so shitty; luckily the feeling subsided right before his exam. He was freaking out though because he knew there was no way he would be able to concentrate while on the nicotine high that the Opus had put him on. So that was that for the night. I walked into class on next Tuesday and asked what happened in class on that Thursday I missed. I missed a surprise quiz….d’oh!
Best:
My best cigar smoking experience came on March 12, 2007. I have one brother, Joe, who is nine years older than I am. Having such a big age difference between us, I really didn’t get to know my brother or hang out with him that much. He left for college in Delaware when I was just a wee lad, so after that I barely ever saw him less for holidays and it really continues to be that way to this day. You never really think about it, but there wasn’t really much connection between my brother and I in the way of common interests. We saw each other rarely so it wasn’t very hard to strike up conversation while we were with each other. However, when I decided to try cigars out and really fell in love with them, I sent an email to my brother about my newfound hobby. I knew that he had been involved with cigars in the past, but I didn’t know if he still smoked or whether he smoked Phillies or White Owls. So the next day he IM’s me and we chat for a while about cigars. He tells me so excitedly about how he just picked up a box of Cohibas. I quickly shot him down, telling him that they were fake. He insisted that they weren’t and that his friend had picked them up in the Dominican, where Cubans are legal, so why would they be fake. I dropped the conversation about the Cohibas, not wanting to aggravate him any further. So he tells me that he is coming to my parent’s house for whatever holiday weekend, which I did not know about. He told me that he had acquired the Dogfish Head IPA120 that I had been telling him to pick up, so I told him that I would pick up the cigars for the evening. I promptly called Al and he decided that Padron 1926 Maduro No. 9’s would be perfect for the occasion. I agreed. Later in the conversation, I guess it was eating at him, my brother types, “They’re fake.” I had forgotten about the Cohibas by this point, but he sent me a link describing fake Cubans. He goes “Mine have a glass top. They have to be fake.” Looking back, that was so funny. Anyway, back to March 12th. We light up our Padrons at night; we skipped the IPA to share the cigars as per CP’s recommendation. It was a beautiful night: cool and not buggy. Bare in mind, this was my fifth cigar ever. For me, I could barely taste a thing. My pallet was so overwhelmed and my brother just kept saying they were incredibly full bodied. The cigar could have been a Phillies or a White Owl. I didn’t really care; sharing those moments with my brother meant a lot to me. It allowed us to (re)connect and we actually talk all the time now. He doesn’t have the willpower or time that I do to extensively research cigars, so he calls me up and gets suggestions from me. I couldn’t ask for a better cigar than that Padron or thank cigars enough for the rebirth of our relationship. My brother also likes it too, as he’s a total Padron whore now. I love keeping in touch with him and I know this will be something that we will be able to connect with forever.
As a side note, I did get him a real Cohiba and he was blown away. He might also be getting some more for an upcoming birthday as well
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