I was out last night in Cambridge with my dear friend Nuno, and after dinner we stopped in this fantastic old school tobacco shop. They have like a million different kinds of cigars, 30 different kinds of pipe tobacco (strawberry – yum!) and all the fancy-pants cigarettes you could wish for. So we each got a pack of imported cancer, admiring the artisan woodworking on the counter, the 1930’s tile floor, and as we were leaving, Nuno asked the clerk how long the store had been there. The answer?
“that’s why I love the East Coast. So much history. Everything out west is ‘established in 1982’. I’m like, shit, this town is younger than my SISTER!”
I don’t know if that will amuse anybody else, but it sure tickled the hell out of me.