Smoke gets in my eyes

Last Friday evening we went to visit some friends. We ordered in a couple of pizzas. The women headed uptown to visit some shops and such. My buddy and I went out to his deck/patio to enjoy the unusually warm November weather. Temperatures were hovering in the low 60's and upper 50's as he built a fire in the fire pit. I cracked open a couple of ice cold beers and lit up a fine stogie. Mine was a Royal Jamaican Gold, his, a CAO, I think.

This was a fine cigar

Wood smoke  from the oak logs twisted with the blue haze from the fine tobaccos, sending a fragrant scent into the night sky. We solved the world's problems, laughed and had had a complete boys night out right at home.  The faint pink sky of the evening drifted into a deep blue sky filled with stars as we sat in the dark, illuminated by the flames. The fire was just right to keep off the deepening chill. The beer flowed. My cigar burned down to a nub, leaving my fingers singed. I pulled out a spare and lit an H. Upmann Vintage Cameroon, a more mild ending to the night. Eventually the antique stores, craft shops, and art galleries closed. The ladies returned and the evening came to an end. 

My jacket stunk like Satan's tennis shoes Saturday morning.