As I sit here on my back deck smoking a cigar, quietly contemplating why I smoke cigars, how radically different they are from cigarettes, and how best to translate that into written word for this, my first blog post, I’m struck by how absurdly long the name is of this particular cigar I’m smoking: Cuesta-Rey Centenario Pyramid No. 9 Stanford’s Cameroon Reserve. That’s 56 characters–not including spaces–just to name the cigar!

It reminded me of a story about a college girlfriend. She and I had only recently begun dating, and I mentioned that I needed to stop at a convenience store to buy some cigarettes. She casually asked if I could pick her up a pack of her brand as well. Naturally I said, “sure, whatca want?” thinking it was a great opportunity to do something nice for her–I mean hey, good deeds and favors are always a great way to start a relationship, especially when you’re trying to get in their pants.

Unfortunately, she proceeded to rattle off the longest cigarette brand name I’d ever heard. “Uh, what was that again?”, I aksed, as my heart sank into my stomach, knowing how difficult it would be to remember such a complex name (and cripes, buying a girl the wrong brand of smokes surely would ruin my chances of separating her from her pants). She repeated it again–slowly this time, as if I were mentally challenged–and made me repeat it back a few times to make sure I’d properly memorized it.

Somehow, I managed to stumble in to the Gas-n-Sip and correctly repeat the insanely long brand name to the clerk, who promptly handed them to me and accepted payment. Proudly, I strutted back out to the car and handed her the pack of smokes, smiling ear to ear because I knew I’d gotten it correct: Benson & Hedges Deluxe Ultra Light Menthol 100’s. That’s 41 characters–not including spaces–and I’d nailed it perfectly.

She smiled and said, “thanks…but where are your cigarettes?”

Crap! In my desperation to properly remember her brand, I’d completely forgotten to buy what I’d gone in for in the first place. Thankfully, she didn’t hold that against me; apparently, stupidity can sometimes be cute.