Here in the West it is a sign of affluence, of power, of having made it in society: a good cigar. Taken after dinner with a sniffer of brandy, sitting in your leather armchair in the club lounge, there is nothing more relaxing after a hard day’s work delegation.
Why, then, did someone suggest today that I am a cigar kind of woman? Is there something special about smoking a cigar when it comes to women, or are we also elevated to the highest ranks as a result?
Photo Source: hyfather – Creative Commons
No, it appears that this was meant as a snide remark, based on the fact that I am doing things, that I have a life, that I am relatively successful and don’t just sit around waiting for success to drop in my lap. I am the sort of person, apparently, who will end up relaxing with a brandy and cigar in that London club and let the world work for me.
No, I don’t smoke – I can’t stand the smell for one thing – but if I did, well, I’d be the calm, considered, thoughtful, literary pipe-smoking type. Just so you know.
Love & Kisses, Viki.