Thursday, May 01, 2014


Some well-meaning goobers.., errrm, I mean 'friends', have suggested that the tobacco thing will have to fade by the wayside if I wish to improve the likelihood that some oblivious woman will inexplicably fall in love or lust with me. "Why heavens", they aver, "your chances will increase from near-zero to not at all that unlikely in the long run".
This because today's woman despises tobacco and its users.

Not so. I have actually met women who do not dislike the substance. Not everyone draws away from me on the bus; just super-sensitive healthfreaks, Berkeleyites, and little flowers.

Entirely aside from which, I happen to be associated with one of the last tobacco enterprises still remaining in California. Just imagine what I smell like on certain days.

And realistically, that's an awfully big habit-change to go through on the slim chance that some woman who hates what I like might enter my life.
In anything approaching a positive way.
I do not gamble.

If you are the right kind of person, you now have a fantasy aroma in your mind. Your nose is twitching. Maduro, double claro, fire-cured, fruity, and slightly floral-resinous. A heady almost intoxicating perfume, yet suprisingly subtle.

If you are the wrong kind of person, you are probably gagging right now, or heaving into your embroidered Hello Kitty handkerchief.
Poor little you.

Not only do I presently have NO intention of disconnecting from pipes and tobacco, but if you leave your friends, relatives, or any other suggestible people in my care, I fully intend to seduce them with flue-cured leaves, fine polished briars, aged dark cake, and richly decadent Orientals.

I am not a sexist, racist, ageist, or species-ist. Everybody can appreciate something truly excellent. Except for neurotic types with 'trust-issues'.

It's entirely about having an open mind.

Would you like a cheroot?

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