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Out of the Humidor

CA Readers
From the Print Edition:
Tom Selleck, Winter 95/96

(continued from page 4)

Dear Marvin,

The first law of cigar smoking: Always carry an extra, just in case. One evening I was rear-ended by one of our vehicularly inept. Coming home the following night, I was enjoying one of my favorite cigars (a Cuban Cohiba) when I was stopped by a Houston police officer. He pointed out my broken taillight and began to recite the rules and regulations for properly covering a broken taillight. I pleaded my case, but to no avail. When he returned with my license (and my ticket) he noticed the aroma of my cigar. When he found out that I was smoking a Cohiba, he began a lengthy speech about how he loved cigars; how his grand-father loved them and blah, blah, blah.

In midsentence he ceased his filibuster and gazed down at me (through his standard-issue Foster Grants) with the cool assuredness of someone who knew something that I did not. As he casually rapped his fingertips on the hood of my car, I suddenly realized what he wanted--my last Cohiba.

That bastard!!! How dare he ask for my last cigar! Sure, the ticket is going to cost me 80 bucks, but dammit, I have my principles! So I mustered up my courage and did the only thing I could do--I gave him the cigar, and all was forgotten. I drove home thinking I needed an amendment to my first law of cigar smoking: Always carry an extra, just in case--but make sure it's a cheap one.

Shaun Lang
Houston, Texas

* * *

Dear Marvin,

I am a 26-year-old out-of-work pilot, making a living as a fast-food restaurant manager. My restaurant sits about a half mile off runway 10 of a busy Chicagoland airport, and believe me, for someone who is as passionate about flying as I am, there is nothing more frustrating than watching beautiful aircraft fly overhead while plastering a fake smile on my face for an irate customer who feels they didn't get enough cheese on their taco. But luckily for me I have another passion--cigars. My drive home each evening takes 45 minutes, precisely the amount of time it takes for me to smoke a Macanudo Prince Phillip (my cigar of choice). Nothing in the world can wipe out a miserable day at work like a good smoke. And nothing can prepare me for an agonizing day like the anticipation of a fine cigarfor the ride home.

James M. Holder
Naperville, Illinois

* * *

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