June 27, a night that will live in infancy!

First of all, let me be clear. To my mind, without Sandi, it's like we didn't really have our first NYC Social Cigar Herf. Without her, how could it be legit, how could it be real?

That aside, we soldiered on without her, and I will now give an account of the evening as I remember it. Or maybe I'd be better off giving an account as I don't remember it, or to put it another way, if I imagined what happened, through a veil of tobacco smoke and liquor, what would it look like? I won't depart entirely from the truth, because I hear that people occasionally still have a use for the truth. But I cannot help but have a little fun.

Merchants East was our base of operation, where Ade, Ultra and I first filled our bellies at the restaurant upstairs before heading downstairs to smoke. There were rumors of other folks arriving, and the number of calls Ade was receiving was promising. The lounge was fairly quiet so there was no problem with us claiming a couple of couches to ourselves and looking into our bags of tricks. Cabaiguan Guapo was Ade's first rocket to the moon. Of course that put me in mind of the comedy the Three Amigos, and for the next several hours we talked about getting matching outfits and running off to ride horses through the Southwest, spreading the good news of G&S and cigars and other insanity.

But in the meantime, I myself selected, with great difficulty, a Nestor Miranda Special Selection. I swear to you that this cigar was recommended to me by one of my buddies who works at Davidoff Columbus Circle. It was not, as has been rumored, something I found tucked into a sneaker in my best friend's gym locker in high school. Nor did a Colombian teenager handing out leaflets on a street corner advertising the end of the world give it to me after I gave her a silver dollar.

As for Ultra, she was overwhelmed by the huge cache of cigars I carry around with me, or perhaps she was perplexed. But I won't speak for her. All I can say is that a Rocky Patel Summer Collection Toro was her choice. I tried not to influence her in any way, even though Rocky, I believe, implanted a chip in my brain when I met him a few weeks ago at Cigar Inn, so that I am prone now to wax poetic on the relative merits of the 8th and 9th primer leaves. I also find myself insisting that people make trips to Honduras, although with the recent coup, I can see how people would not be especially enthusiastic to take my advice.

And while we enveloped ourselves in our first smokes of the evening, and contemplated some wine or other libation to accompany said smokes, glory be if Musashi and Travis didn't turn up unexpectedly and totally turn the evening on its head. First of all, their manner of dress took the breath from us three: for sure from tip to top they were covered with shiny black leather and polished silver studs. Indeed, one might have speculated whether the two had come fresh from some S&M festival or Medieval re-enactment, for they'd have been at home in either, I'll warrant.

And then the veil was lifted from my eyes and there were the two, Musashi and Travis, smiling at us and carrying packages filled with goodies, dressed only as themselves. Had it all been a trick? Had I imagined their armored countenances? I'll never know, but I can only guess that it was some enchantment they cast over us. That magician, Lars Tetens, has taught them well how to cast spells on us mere mortals.

And share with us of their goodies they did, cigars and chocolates and friendliness and company of the best. Ade said the limited robusto we sampled was like the best thing he ever tasted. Ultra and I were not similarly blown away by the cigar, but enjoyed it tremendously nevertheless. Maybe we are too jaded to be open to such religious orgiastic sensations coming from smoking tobacco.

And then the two were on their way, and we didn't want them to leave, but we all assured each other we would meet again soon. And the evening had taken its toll on Ultra and myself, but thankfully as we were on our way out, some of the long-promised visitors appeared: Ade's brother Joseph, and a trio of ladies led by Shaquila, her only recently joined to SC. Her friends were named Tiara and Senita I believe.

I did get the chance to give my warmest greetings to the new arrivals. And there was Ade being the gracious host, offering some of his newly-purchased Lars cigars to the ladies. I gathered my things and made for the exit as they all settled down looking quite happy and comfortable.

After seeing Ultra to a cab I walked to the subway, a little stunned by the evening's proceedings and the heady amounts of tobacco consumed. I can only hope that this is only the first of many monthly gatherings of this sort...