It's Only Funny if You Get Caught

"A good Cuban cigar closes the door to the vulgarities of the world."- Franz Liszt


Sometimes I truly wonder what drives people to act as they do. Oh, come on, we have wondered this at one point.

Men: “Why in the hell did he take Maddux out in the 7th, he was pitching beautifully!”

Women: “What the hell was she thinking…those shoes with that outfit?”

See, we’ve all done it. But still, what drives people to act upon foolish, nosey, and negative perceptions, I’ll never know.

I have yet another story that has found a home in the epic journey that has become my quest for the perfect cigar.

I think Liszt got it right, because when most people say, “You’ll laugh about this in the morning,” I usually already am, because I always try to be in good company, with an excellent cigar in hand.

The following story has not been modified, nor has been formatted. The story is real. The people are real. Only nothing has been changed.

“Hey Shawn (my brother), I forgot my lighter in the car,” I said, “Why don’t you come with me, there is a really funny comedian I want you to listen to for second?”

We proceeded outside with cigars in hand. I had brought him an Alec Bradley Select Cabinet Reserve to try out and I selected a La Flor Dominicana Air Bender. We loaded into my car, started it, and lit our cigars as we listened to the CD for a brief moment.

We, of course, vacated my car and proceeded to walk around his home to the backyard amd enjoy our smokes on his patio.

I know that this story may seem terribly dull at this point I beseech you to hold on.

My brother (not blood) lives with his half sister, her husband John and their three boys. Since the boys were already asleep at this point (little boys asleep at 8pm, yeah right) we kept it quiet and left the lights out on the porch. We are enjoying our cigars and good conversation with little want or need of anything.

“HEY!” John shouts, as he bursts outside while blinding us with the patio light. “Are y’all smoking weed out here?” he asks. He barely waits for an answer as he notices the obvious stogies between our fingers.

“Ahh,” we exclaim in response to the light, “No way John.”

John takes off back into the house, obviously upset about something.

As I have stated for the record on other occasions, I do not and have never smoked marijuana. I was pretty sure John knew this. I am well aware that the family is fond of me and I am not about to disrespect a man in his house, especially with young children around. I urge Shawn to go check on things and he leaves me outside to enjoy the warm air and soothing smoke by my lonesome.

A few moments later, Shawn returns with a smirk across his face and a chuckle building in his stomach.

Shawn has heard all of my cigar stories and knows there is a good chance something crazy will happen when I decide to light the end of any vitola.

"I think you may have a story for your blog brewing here," he says matter-of-factly.  "Oh really," I replied.
 
Oh crap, what's going on now.  John and Lisa know we smoke cigars out here.  I don't what them thinking I smoke pot, especially with their kids sleeping 25 feet away.
 
Shawn continues, "Well, the police are on their way. So, put a smile on."  I thought he was joking, but as I realized he really wasn't I'll be honest I felt some relief.  I knew John would obviously not call the cops on us, so it made feel a little better that he was not behind the issue at hand.
 
It turns out that while we were in the car out front there were some overzealous high school kids outside that witnessed us as we lit our cigars in my car.  They thought they saw something that they didn't see.  If my Air Bender was a blunt it could have a set a world record for size I promise.  Clearly these kids how no idea what they were talking about and were trying to play neighborhood crime watch.  While I suppose I can admire the entusiasm, sometimes a little common sense wouldn't hurt anyone. 
 

 
"Where's John?" I asked.  Shawn took a puff from his cigar and stated, "Across the street in his underwear yelling at the neighbors."
 
I couldn't help but laugh.  While weren't guilty of anything, it was nice for cigar smoking to get such a loud defense from someone.  The cops came and went, especially since there was nothing to see.
 
And so, another entry in my cigar adventures came to a close. 
 
Today, I still have this vision in my head of me spread out on  a cop car, handcuffed, puffing on my Airbender, guiltyof nothing but excellent tastes and good coversation.  I am not sure I understand the reaction of those kids, nor the need to take such a dramatic action.  Still, nobody was hurt and the world has kept turning. 
 
I continue to make an honest effort to be smoking a cigar as obnoxiously as possible whenever I return to my brother's home.  A modest hope is that the kids are standing outside to once again witness and be reminded of their obsurdity,  Yeah, I am that guy.  Call me a jerk, a jackass, or just mean, but if I am anything, I am certainly the best.
 
As always folks, keep puffing and remember there is nothing wrong with knowing you are the best.
 
 
Regards,
Bear