At the back of the hill

Warning: If you stay here long enough you will gain weight! Grazing here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton. And you might like cheese-doodles.
BTW: I'm presently searching for another person who likes cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Saturday, May 03, 2014


One can love someone, without being in love with them. Or, heaven forefend, in lust. This needs to be clarified, because I love my friends, many of whom are either male or otherwise totally unsuitable. Some of whom are, in fact, in caring physical relationships with people of the gender most appropriate for them.

It is that last part that is a more than a little irritating.

Despite their otherwise sterling qualities.

Them and their life-partners.

And when I say "irritating", please understand that if I were in their Jockeys or Jimmie Choos, I would do exactly the same. Namely touch, stroke, or affectionately pat the person I was with at the cigar bar or tobacconist. Nothing more, because making out in public is in bad taste -- it's blatant enough that you brought your husband or boyfriend to a place where you can light up that big Gurkha Maduro.
Don't make it more uncomfortable than it is.
Take some responsibility for once.
Be kind to others.

It's a powerhouse, described as "Nicaraguan longfillers and Dominican binder rolled (in) dark oily Brazilian wrappers -- This cigar is pure evil -- characteristically smooth and earthy with notes of pepper, cedar and nuts on a woody finish -- hints of anise and some fruity accents in the mix."

Kaizad Hansotia is responsible for Gurkha cigars.

Your companion is probably sipping his sherry and wondering when he can go home to his teddy bear. A nice soothing personality, that bear, so understanding!

He's out of his element, what with being an exercise nut from a gym.

I am a man's man; I don't need a teddy bear to hold my hand.

Plus I don't mind an environment filled with smoke.

Being myself an aficionado of tobacco.

[And besides which, the teddy bears in the apartment I share with a non-smoker are all insane. These are not your warm fuzzy nurturing bears, but a murderous psycho bear, a sexist pig bear, a strange little autistic pink orphan, and a fish-obsessed neurotic.]

There are a number of people, of either gender, who insist on dragging their significant others to the cigar bar. Despite the unsuitability of that. No one wants to see a non-smoker suffering from existential angst because their entire welt-anschauung has been cast into doubt by the wholesome good cheer of so many people enjoying a habit they have always considered sheer heresy. Their self-confidence has been krenked, they look lost.

They are dangerously out of their element.
A reassuring pat is in order.

Trust me, seeing other people being affectionate does NOTHING for the single man. It's disquieting, and creates a disturbance in the force.

It's just as bad when the two people in question are BOTH smokers of cigars or pipes. Worse, even. They're too damned happy.
Dammit, we were talking! Ignore him or her!
Just get them another drink already!
Quiet down, little loveballs.

In the case of tense and uncomfortable non-smokers, just tell them "it's the Fong Shway of the moment". I actually have no clue what that means, as I overheard it being used on a television show I never watch, when everybody was surrounded by Brie and crackers, plus various fruits. Some dillwad panicked because they couldn't find their crème brûlée torch.
Which challenged their inner harmony.

When you're surrounded by cigar smokers, you need never fear not being able to make crème brûlée; all those triple-torch Xikar lighters make a perfect substitute.

For me, as a pipe smoker, that's also comforting.

Far better than the exercise nut's wussy-ass soothing and understanding teddy bear. Hah! My teddy bears can beat up his teddy bear.
Then brûlée the spit out of the saccharine fuzzball.

Wouldn't mind some of the Brie and crackers, though. Brie and crackers are very reassuring, and ameliorate almost any inconvenience. If you will insist on bringing that drippy non-smoking party crasher with you, please bribe us with brie and crackers; all will be forgiven.

And that brings me back to the point of this: I am seething with envy!
If I had someone to take to the cigar bar -- preferably a young lady who appreciated pipes and stogies -- then I too would irritate all the single people by showing off my good fortune.
At totally inappropriate moments I would theatrically stop listening to the boring bachelors and lonesome singles, and give my companion some well-deserved attention. Make little affectionate cooing sounds, buy her another Bourbon, and like a gentleman light up her box pressed maduro bellicoso, holding the crème brûlée torch so that she can rotate the tip before puffing deeply. We'll stare into each other's eyes...... the universe stops rotating for a brief moment...... there is deep silence...... then we innocently ask the people with whom we were talking "huh, what did you say?"

We will hold hands reassuringly.
I'm still here, do not worry.
So sweet, very nice!

There are other and better reasons for a relationship, of course.
But the frustrate-your-neighbor-factor is important.
Especially if you're "so cute" together.
There's someone to light up.

Or not, if neither of you are that kind of person.
In which case you really shouldn't be here.
The local gym is missing its nuts.

Please don't bring your children to the cigar bar.
They're ugly; we're here to escape that.
If you must, smoke at home.
Thank you.

NOTE: Readers may contact me directly:
All correspondence will be kept in confidence.


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