Sleet, Smoke, Snow

A freak ice storm swept through the nation over the past week. Wednesday night, it snowed and blanketed everything in a thin layer of white -- a rare occasion for these parts.

I met up with Don and a friend of his from California, who was visiting for the holidays, at an Irish pub along the side of the highway for a quick drink. While driving there, the snow came down at a rate I'd never seen before. That's not to say there was necessarily a lot of snow; I just don't ever actually see snowfall. Through the windshield, the drive resembled those old Windows space-travel screen savers with the white-dot stars flying toward the screen.

We shot the shit for a few hours, and when we left, the snow had stopped but our cars were covered in it.

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Today, the city was still below freezing, though the sleet and snow had dissipated overnight. Foo, who was stateside and home for the holidays, joined Don and I at a wine bar near The Strip.

Wrapped in layers of probably all of our winter clothes, we huddled around an outdoors patio heater and enjoyed cigars, a bottle of wine, and couple of Blue Moons.

I'd never smoked cigars before but had always wanted to give it a try, so Foo picked out a couple of sticks and showed me the ropes. The cigars he picked out had a faint muddy flavor to it. It was dry and it felt like I was drawing mostly blank air while puffing, but I suspect that had more to do with how the cigars were stored than anything.

I don't enjoy the taste of cigarettes, and the tobacco served at hookah bars feels too light and tastes too fruity except when the hookahs are filled with alcohol. I think cigars are just the right taste and feel that once I find my right flavor, it could be something I enjoy.

We finished our cigars and a bottle of wine that Don picked out, kicked back for a short while, but ultimately buckled to the cold and went home, hoping that the night brings low enough temperatures to ice down the streets and shut down the workplace.