Out of the Humidor
From the Print Edition:
Jack Nicholson, Summer 95
(continued from page 4)
Kelly P. Reynolds
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Recently, on a business trip to South Lake Tahoe, I decided to go down to the Casino at Caesar's Tahoe and try my luck at the blackjack tables. This particular evening, the casino was very crowded. I walked all around the casino looking for a nonsmoking table. I am so accustomed to smoking my cigars outdoors, I never think to smoke them indoors where they may offend someone.
The only open table in the whole casino was a $25 smoking table. Feeling lucky, I sat down. Each of the other five players were all smoking cigarettes. After a half hour of cigarette smoke filling the table, the five cigarette-smoking friends all turned to me, almost in unison, and sarcastically asked me, "This smoke doesn't bother you? Does it?" I politely replied, "No. Not at all."
I decided it was now time. I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my favorite cigar. I cut a perfect cat's eye with my cutter and took several matches to assure a good light. Then, with a cloud of delicious smoke surrounding the table, I looked to my tablemates and asked them, "This smoke doesn't bother you, does it?"
It was an outstanding turn of fortune. Just then the dealer gave me my first blackjack of the evening. My smoking companions cleared out quickly, only to be replaced by a more friendly group of cigar-toting gents who couldn't help but be pulled to my table by the familiar scent of a good cigar.
Herbert R. Solomon
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