the smoke gets in your eyes. and hair. and clothes. but in a good way.

I spent a very manly evening at Hudson Bar & Books way down yonder on Hudson Street at Horatio with R, esq. This would be Holiday Spirits #4. R, esq. is another lost soul who I communicate with regularly but don't actually get to see very often. Like most lawyers, he works. A lot.

Hudson Bar & Books is a cigar bar. Smoking has been run out of town, so walking into a bar and encountering a cloud of cigar smoke is a bit unsettling. The testosterone practically drips off the walls and seeps down onto the copper-topped bar.

This bar is so damn masculine that they play nothing but James Bond movies on the small TV in the corner. Last night they had You Only Live Twice on a loop. I was able to watch it one and a quarter times. The back room of the bar is a library. Nobody reads there. It's just drinking and smoking. The books are for show. And a pretty show it is, especially for an old bookman like myself.


There are women in the crowd but, generally, it's a bunch of guys sitting around puffing cigars. They have a cigar menu and a whisky menu. No food. I don't make a habit of smoking cigars but when the occasion calls for it I am happy to imbibe. I always end up smoking a stogy or two when in Vegas.

4 glasses of Dewar's (2 straight up, 2 w/ soda) + 4 Dunhill cigars = $147.63 And that's without the tip! No food, remember. Just alcohol and tobacco. Even for New York that's preposterous. Well...that did include the Bond movie.

* * *

I got down the the Village a little early and had a cup of chili at this utterly charming bistro.

Next door to the bistro is the house I going to own someday.


That wreath is hung in their living room window. It looks out onto a quiet, pretty block in the heart of Greenwich Village. *sigh*