Out of the Humidor
From the Print Edition:
maduro issue, Winter 93/94
(continued from page 4)
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Alas, I am sorry to say I have a sad story to tell.
About two months ago, my longtime girlfriend and I decided to part ways. Without really looking in a few boxes I thought contained only her belongings, I sent her on her way. Later, I discovered, much to my dismay, that in one of the boxes were my last few Hoyo De Monterrey Churchills that I had managed to import from Geneva when I visited there over the summer.
So now my girl is gone and my smokes are gone. Damn, I'm going to miss those cigars.
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I have many times been the recipient of dirty looks, nasty comments and long stares for taking a good solid draw on my favorite Davidoff Cuban, and I mean not only from my wife. However, my ultimate anticigar experience was when I traded in my Acura Legend for a new car. The air in my trade-in was a still a bit fresh (some might say stale) as I had recently finished one of my cherished Davidoffs. Well, imagine my surprise when the sales manager told me that I would be getting $1,000 less because it was a cigar smoker's car. That was the most expensive Davidoff I have ever smoked.
Y. Isaac Applebaum
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