I have visited many cigar shops and lounges in my life and travels. They are stereotypically “man havens” replete with leather furniture, old-world inspired wood tables, pool tables, poker tables, flat-screen TV’s, etc. I recently had the opportunity to visit one of my favorites in San Antonio called C.I.G.A.R. It turns out they have just opened a second location and have plans to open a 50’s theme-inspired third location closer to downtown. They have a great humidor with a very diverse and always well stocked selection, and the guys let me go back into the private lounge to work. There are a few perks to being a “lonely businessman out on the road.” I seized upon a recommendation and tried a 601.
As I sat there smoking, thinking, and enjoying the 601’s peppery start, I felt a strange, uncomfortable sensation… almost as if there was kryptonite in the room. The “white noise” of the cigar lounge just wasn’t right. I looked up at the TV and saw what I never thought I would ever see in a cigar lounge… I saw the Oxygen channel. I realize the Oxygen network has inspired women around the globe and resurrected the careers of stars like Meredith Baxter-Birney (who stars in just about every “battered-woman-gets-revenge-on-that-abusive-bastard” movie), but it didn’t do much for my cigar-smoking, Wall Street Journal reading experience.
Rather than watching PTI or my new favorite show SportsNation on ESPN, I found myself caught up in a marathon of a show called Snapped! There was the episode where a married beauty queen had a former lover assassinate another former lover (who turned out to be the father of one of her kids). Through it all the husband stayed with her and she got off because there wasn’t enough evidence to link her with the man who killed the other guy. Another episode told the story of a young mom who killed her southern Baptist preacher husband (and presumed jerk) who, she says, was abusive and made her prostitute herself to help with financial difficulties. What ever happened to working as a part-time receptionist at the church or clipping coupons? Maybe a side business selling Mary Kay or Pampered Chef?
In the end I finished my 601, but hope that the next time I enjoy one I can find the remote control (if need be) and notch down the estrogen in the room.