H.Upmann Magnum 46 Tubo 09.....On the Waterfront

I was in New Orleans last weekend, and as it always seems to be, I found myself someplace I did not want to be as a cooperative measure.  My host's in-laws wanted to go down to the Treasure Chest Casino on the shore of Lake Pontchartrain and spend some of their hard-earned money.  I am not a casino person.  I believe that once you have money handed to you, you do not turn around and throw it in the street.  That's what I did with my first paycheck.  I remember it well.  I had worked all week for 88 dollars and some change.  I took it out of the envelope ( I was paid in cash) and put it in my pocket.  Later on my short walk home, I must have wanted something out of that pocket, and as I took it out, my money must have fallen out onto the ground.  And it didn't stay on the ground long.  I found my money gone 4 minutes or less later, and by the time I retraced me walk back the half a block to the store where I worked, it was gone.  


So now that you know my deepest rooted money regret, you can see why I do not throw money in the street anymore.  BUT I AM an adult, or I am old enough to gamble anyway.  So I went to the Casino and took $100 with me.  I would rise to gambling glory or sink to shame with that stipend.  Because I am the biggest loser, and because I was going into a casino with professionals, I took the Magnum 46 and a Hemingway Short Story.  I would need something to do after I got reamed for my $100....quickly.  Because these people do not leave just because Sad Sack lost his money.  They play until they are ready to go home.  I should have brought a box of cigars.


I got down to my last $20 in 20 minutes before roaring back to $120.  So I was ready to go home after that hour, haha.  I tracked down the girls and found them steadily playing away.  I took my extra 20 and sat down at a crowded Roulette wheel.  I threw that 20 away in two plays.  I went and found Eugene hammering the poker machine for a couple 4's of a kind in rapid succession.  Not going to mess with HIS luck.  


So it was Saturday night, no sense in me playing any more table games.  I headed back to the slots.  I slid one of my cashout tickets into the machine and quickly lost that.  SO I was down to 60 again, and I wanted to preserve the moment.  I decided to bail for the cigars.  I gave notice of my intentions, and headed out to the moorings.  It was a crisp, cool night in New Orleans, certainly a treat for a boy that was raised to dread any and all weather in that city.  A year in NO is 45 days of bliss wrapped inside 320 days of abuse.  You love it for what it is, not how it is.  


I lit up the Magnum 46 and was treated with a acidic tang and pop of power right to the chin.  It balanced out in a few puffs and became a mildly-flavored tobacco core with light tea and twang flavors, but not a lot of flavor changes.  I needed to make this last a long time, so I could return with my 60 bucks and look like a successful gambler the next time anyone checked on me.  So I drew sparingly on the stick, and it rewarded me with a beautiful burn, smooth draw and ample smoke.  For a tubo, this was really performing nicely.  It's humidity was a BIT high which muted some of the flavor, but it was not suffering any for the extra moisture.  There are no "detecting" moments to discuss, I did not uncover any subtle nuances, nor do I think it was particularly "olivey" or salty.  But it was a solid smoke with good flavor.  It was not going to make me get excited, but it helped to pass the time in a pleasant fashion.  I watched people come and go down the gangway and contemplated my return to the casino floor.  I decided to use my time-tested strategy, to creep up behind my friends and thus ruin their luck to the point where they would be tempted to call it quits.  While I did change some luck for the worse, they hung on.  So I sat down and played some more.  I quickly lost my $60 and became a player's nightmare.  Someone who hangs around nearby and watches.  Waiters hate it, security hates it.  I could care less.  You should be able to tell I am broke and ready to go home, lol.  I COULD have taken my credit card along, or the extra two hundreds I left in my shaving kit at home.  But I am nothing if not a gambling realist.  I know what time it is.  I am not going to lose my good money no matter what I hold in reserve.  Looking back I should have slow-played, and will next time.  I will not bet the max on every spin, even thought I know that when YOU DO hit something good, you should be in for the max bet available or you waste one of the few big payoffs that machine is going to make that day.  Another hundred would not have brought me any closer to beating the house.  I would just be down $200 instead of $100.  I sat next to machines and watched people pour money into them for nothing, and by the time I was ready to swoop in and collect, I was also out of cash.  On one machine, it would have only taken one pull's worth of jack.  It paid out 200 bucks like it was giving away candy.  For want of two bucks, I lost two hundred.  Cest' la Vie


The cigar was a good thing on that night.  I must score it, so I give it a 82.  It was good, it was not a pain in the butt on construction, and it enhanced the surrounding moment.  But the flavor needed to be better. It was a diversion, an enjoyment, and a moment in time that was more pleasurable than painful.  And in New Orleans, that's a pretty good thing.