When in college and hanging around bike rallies up to about age 45, I smoked the occasional cigar, but Fay really started objecting to the smell on my clothes and person, and the cost of smoking a cigar and smelling like one for a day or two was no longer worth the ... penalty ... (nudge nudge wink wink knowwhatImean) I incurred for a week or more.
But about 4 years ago, I was on my way to a Guzzi rally, and I stopped and bought a $12 cigar in a metal tube, figuring that I'd be gone 3 or 4 days and she'd never know it, just to smoke around the camp fire with the lads on Saturday night.
I hadn't smoked one in several years ... so I cut this one reverently, lit up, took a couple of strong drags to get it burning good ...
... and suddenly I was holding onto the log I was sitting on, trying to keep from falling off the face of the earth it was spinning so bad, and sick as some dog. That nicotine hit my inner membranes like a stick of dynamite.
When I had recovered enough to aim it at the fire, I sorrowfully tossed it in, and haven't indulged since. Probably never will ....