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 Holly Winter Living The Life Of Holly June 21, 2003 “I’d like to buy a cigar.” “Follow me.” She said, grabbing her keys. I wasn’t kidding. I wanted one cigar. Just one. Not a case. Not a dozen. Sure. I loved my dad. But. I could only afford one. She led us into a large, dehumidified closet with shelves and shelves of cigars, then stood at the door with her arms crossed waiting for us to make our selection. The room smelled overwhelmingly like cigars. Darlin-man and I poked around. “Look at these.” He gasped. “One hundred and fifty dollars a piece.” “Really?” I picked one up and smelled it. Yup. It smelled cigar-ish. “That’s a special hand rolled Cuban cigar.” She said. “A Cuban cigar? My dad would love that.” Darlin-man shook his head. He knew my budget. We kept shopping. There were long cigars and short cigars and really fat cigars. Some were wrapped in cellophane; others were boxed up in cigar boxes. I’ve always liked cigar boxes. This was my first time seeing them packed with cigars. The sales woman stepped forward. “Where are you from?” “Denver.” I said, absentmindedly. I had found pink cigars. Were they for women? Or was that a special kind of leaf they were rolled in? “Is that in the United States or Europe?” She asked. “United States.” “Oh. Well then you can still buy a cigar from Cuba, but I will have to take off the band that says that the cigar is from Cuba, because you’re not permitted to take anything from Cuba into the United States.” “I’m not?” Darlin-man shook his head. “You didn’t know that?” “Nope. Didn’t.” “Don’t worry.” She said. “We have these bands that say Cayman Island on them. We slip off the Cuba band and slip on one of our bands. That way you can take it home without having it confiscated in customs.” I know. I was wasting her time. But. I liked looking around. I wanted to take some time to check out the lower shelves to see what was down there. Because, you know, maybe there was something hiding. But. I was wasting her time. “Um. Where are your ten dollar cigars?” I asked. “What do you mean?” “I want to buy one cigar for ten dollars.” “If you want only one cigar, you probably want one of these.” She lifted out a fifty dollar cigar. I’m sure that in the world of cigars that it was a prince. But. I was a pauper. “Oh. Nice. But. Really. I need a ten dollar cigar.” She started digging around till she found one. “This one wasn’t made in Cuba.” She worried. “It was made here on the island.” “That’s ok.” I said. “My dad will be glad that I’m not smuggling illegal goods into the States.” When I got home I mailed the cigar to my father, hoping that he wouldn’t think it was too valuable to smoke. “Hi Dad. Happy Father’s Day!” “What’s the weather?” “Don’t know.” “Could you look outside? I’m watching the weather channel. It says it’s sunny.” I smiled as I flung open my door. “Yup. Sunny here. How bout there?” “S’been raining a lot. My garden is a swamp. Don’t have my tomatoes in yet.” See. Now that the weather was out of the way, we could talk. “So. Dad. Did you get your cigar?” “Yes! Thank you. I haven’t smoked it yet. I’m saving it for a special occasion.” “Well. Wish I could have bought you the hundred and fifty dollar one.” “What? I wouldn’t have smoked it. I would’ve framed it.” He laughed. I laughed. “I know.” “How much was this one.” He asked. “If you don’t mind…” “Ten dollars.” “TEN DOLLARS? Isn’t that a bit much for a cigar that’s going to go up in smoke?” I laughed. My dad would pay a fortune for a steak. And he owned more tools than could ever fit into all of his toolboxes. That cigar was one of the cheapest there. But. He didn’t know that. He continued. “Holly. You didn’t have to spend that much on a cigar.” Yeah. I know. He still thought it was a lot of money. Oh. Don’t worry. I’ve known my dad for thirty seven years. “Hey, Dad?” “What?” “That cigar…” “What about it.” “It was on sale.” “Oh.” He relaxed. “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” ------------ About the author: Holly Winter is a teacher and a writer and a flight attendant living in Denver, Colorado, USA. She can be reached at her website or email: Holly@livingthelifeofholly.com Comment on this column in the forum. ------------ |
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