"He wanted something that was not very strong, so I gave him a Nub Connecticut wrapper. He lit it up and enjoyed it." Apparently, the dinner bell sounded*** and the nameless man said, "I'm not going to smoke it all right now."
"I said, 'Okay,' and we went in for parmesan cheese wrapped in prosciutto, homemade spaghetti and tomato sauce, garlic bread, and Caesar salad.
"When we came back out, I said, 'What the fuck happened to this cigar?' The whole end was mangled. It looked like a cartoon gun that had exploded. It had the shape of a blunderbuss."
"I stubbed it out," the man said. And then Valentino's head exploded.
|Eva is very, very angry at the man for destroying the Nub. She will make him pay.|
Of course, if you're going to be leaving it for a while, for example if you're going to eat a gourmet dinner in the middle of the woods, then play poker, and then drink one or a hundred tequila shots, you should probably take a couple of steps before returning the abandoned soul to its rightful place--your face. (Unless, of course, a bear has made off with your premium cigar, in which case I say, "Godspeed, Gentle Ben!")
|I can't find a photo of a mangled Nub, |
so please enjoy this serene picture of the little fella before destruction.
- Pick up the cigar and scrape off all the ash--anything that has been burnt; think of it as anything that looks like charcoal, the black and grey ashes. You may want to use a flat tool, like a pipe tool (although he uses a screwdriver when he's smoking outside. I know, I know. Classy. Sorry girls, he's all mine.)
- Heat up the foot again and blow through the cigar for five-to-ten seconds to burn off the tars that have built up. Sparks will fly out the end. Don't worry. You're eliminating old gasses and/or resin. That does not sound like anything I'd like to taste.
- Light it up and enjoy! It may be stronger than when you first started, but that's okay! It's still a great stick!
|Except that old cigar taste. Even butter can't fix that.|
"I'm not giving him any more cigars," Valentino says, still shuddering at the experience.
I nod and say, "Uh huh," the way supportive partners do.
"But of course I did, because he was my cart partner."
I'd expect nothing less.****
*Doesn't this conjure up images of a rustic setting, maybe the bare-bones of accommodations? Hahahaha. Air conditioning, cable TV, three refrigerators, two stoves, sleeps 16 in real beds...yeah, you get the drift. "Camp" is a misnomer, obviously, but we pretend.
**His team came in second!
***And by "dinner bell," I mean delicious gourmet scents wafting out onto the large porch.
****I meant to write this post about Nubs, and then it got away from me. I'll try again tomorrow!