Last weekend – while at a good friend’s wedding – I had an urge I hadn’t had in many years: I wanted to smoke a celebratory cigar.
The last cigar I’d had was when I was a junior in high school. While at a bowling alley with some friends we lit up some stog’s – my first ever!…and moments later a not particularly intimidating high school aged guy came over and asked us to put the stogie’s out as it was bothering his girlfriend. One of my friends – unwisely – proceeded to blow smoke in the kid’s face…
Out of nowhere my cigar was ripped from my mouth from behind by a (different) dude with an enemy high school’s letterman’s jacket on and a massive brawl ensued that ended with sheriffs escorting us out of the bowling alley to our cars so we wouldn’t get jumped by a now big and riled crowd of angry drunken high school fuckheads…
Cut to last weekend. As the reception raged on inside, a few of us stepped outside for our cigars. Just as I light up I ask a college buddy – who was apparently “old school” drunk already at this point, probably not surprisingly – if he has one.
With a look of pure evil he said: “I do!”
And he grabbed the cigar from out of my mouth, snapped it in two – took a large drag from the lit half and exhaled right in my face, then – with a maniacal laugh – handed it back to me.
Apparently when I light a cigar it’s some sort of karmic trigger or something…
