Today was good.
Two minutes from me a B&M celebrated their five weeks of business. My first experience there with the big leather sofa, a 40-some inch lcd with an oozing Giada De Laurentiis, and six comfy chairs on black hardwood floors sucked me in. Free coffee, industry rags, and a fluffy USAToday. The walk-in, full of fresh boxes smelled rich and untouched. An unfamiliar sight, all new inventory, not diversified like established shops. A bunch of this and a bunch of that, but not a bunch of a bunch of stuff. I don't think I have stood in a humidor that long before choosing. I was sucked in. Every stick was viewed from left to right , top to bottom around the room. The last box on the bottom shelf, the omega, the last cigar to be seen, was the one.
Stanford's Cameroon Reserve Cuesta-Rey Churchill #1. The pristine box called to me, "We are twenty, we are shiny with gold paper, and we know..." With my spirit removed from my body, I plucked the the most radiant one and headed for the couch. I sat down and stared at it before removing its skirt. I ogled it for minutes before punching its head. I fondled it awhile before lighting its foot. I don't remember doing the sudoku, or crossword. I talked to the owner for a half an hour, but I wasn't there. People came, people went, I was gone. I had transcended space and time; I was in the zone. I was the cigar.
...And after I came back to myself and made fish soup, I had a God Pepin Garcia JJ belicoso. This is the cigar where each puff is better than the last, and you want to eat the butt.
Today was good.