Out of the Humidor
From the Print Edition:
Fidel Castro, Summer 94
(continued from page 3)
At that point, I stated that we would not be doing business with him. We would rather drive to New York City and dine at the '21' Club than dine in an establishment which does not appreciate our business. You should have heard him grovel. "No, no, we want your business, however...." At which time I stated, "I would rather go to the '21' Club where my business is appreciated and I can be treated like a human being." I then thanked him and hung up. A few minutes later I got a call from the catering manager who stated that they could accommodate my party. Once again, I stated that, "I would rather go to the '21' Club where I can eat in the dining room like a civilized human being, have the wines which I require and smoke what I wish."
One by one we shall conquer all of the restaurants which do not allow cigar smoking.
David B. Nybo
Editor's Response: You have no idea how happy your letter has made me feel. People like Crocket deserve the enmity of all cigar smokers, and shame on establishments that hire them. Great work!
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As a full-time student at Georgetown University and a cigar lover, I often find myself making economic sacrifices so I can occasionally treat myself to my beloved Ashton Churchills. Whenever I can afford to partake in a good smoke, it is a rare and special occasion. Needless to say, however, the politically correct atmosphere of my college campus makes cigar smoking as persecuted as armed assault, perhaps more so. Well, it was just a while ago when celebrating a law-school acceptance letter that my roommate Steve and I set off to commemorate the occasion by, what else, smoking a glorious Ashton. But as soon as we had lit up our beauties in the seemingly comfortable confines of a favorite off-campus bar, we were immediately met with scornful stares from the staff and patrons. Ignoring the fact that the bar was already filled with the seemingly "acceptable" smoke of numerous cigarettes, men and women alike felt the need to ruin our smokes with their discourteous glances. As if this was not enough to make us feel as though we were as offensive as a pair of pedophiles, the deejay himself made the comment to the dancing crowd about whether what he smelled was "a cigar or someone burning a shoe." We were red-faced with embarrassment but finished our cigars, defiantly smoking in the face of what I feared could become a violent mob. I was surprised and saddened to see that so many of my contemporaries do not apply their religion of tolerance and acceptance to something as mundane as cigar smoking. I will continue to smoke and hopefully break down the barriers that are separating "us" from "them." Needless to say, however, I will in the future celebrate special occasions with my close friends only, and, of course, my Ashtons! Thank you for a great magazine and the support we aficionados need.
Thomas D. Pahlke
Editor's Response: Thank you for standing tall.
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