I had my first cigar a few weeks ago at my advisor’s farewell and graduation party. It was a Java (or I think it was; I also had my first Jack Daniels, so my recollection of the evening might be a little off). J, the other PhD graduate who gave it to me said he bought it in a tobacco shop for $15, although they seem to be available online for about half that.
J assured me that the cigar would be “smooth”. Although I lack any basis for comparison, but I was surprised how easy smoking turned out to be. (I hasten to add that it’s less easy to look cool doing it, which I assuredly did not.) I knew in advance that I would never get through a whole cigar, so I asked for and received about an inch and a half worth. J warned that a cigar that short might burn a little, but that really wasn’t my experience beyond the one time I accidentally inhaled.
I had expected that whatever effect one would get from tobacco smoke would be felt immediately, but that turned out not to be true. I gamely puffed away about a quarter inch before saying, “Don’t take this personally, but your cigar is doing nothing for me. It’s mainly just a lot of work.” But I had no sooner snuffed out the remainder when I began to feel it: a pleasantly dizzying sensation. I might say that the cigar intensified the effect of the Gentleman Jack, but “intensify” seems a poor choice given that the cumulative sensation was very mellowing. I found myself uncharacteristically relaxed and talkative.
A word on the after effects. I drank plenty of water that evening, so I didn’t have anything like a hangover the next morning, but both my breath and the clothes I was wearing felt and smelled like an ashtray. And . . . I woke up the next morning thinking about cigars! Along the lines of, “Mmmm, cigars . . . .” Kind of a lot. Fortunately, the craving went away by midday, but I can kinda see how someone who woke up in the morning with those kind of thoughts and who had tobacco on hand would be tempted to light up.