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Certainly you have heard of pipe dreams, but what of tobacco dreams?
It has become a ritual for me, once a week, to wander down to the warehouse and do a little tobacco shopping. Typically, I will grab a few tins of my perennial favorite but with such a wonderful selection available to, it's only natural that in addition to my "usual," I pick out something new to try. I don't have to tell you this, but every now and then, one of those new blends has a profound effect and ends up claiming a spot in the regular rotation.
Some time ago I made the trip downstairs to the warehouse and grabbed a few tins of McConnell’s Scottish Flake, one of my standbys. Looking around for something new, I noticed the Wessex shelf and remembered Josh mentioning to me that he really enjoyed Wessex Brown Virginia flake. I have loved many blends from Wessex, but the BVF was one that I somehow overlooked. "Why not?", I thought while adding a tin to my stack. I paid for the tobacco and rushed home to crack open the experimental tin.
This is where things get a bit hazy.
The tin note was luscious. The moisture level directly from the tin was ideal and the beautiful, medium-brown flakes rubbed out effortlessly and felt like velvet in my hands. It would take at least another page for me to adequately describe the flavor, but I will say that it is creamy, full-bodied, and chock-full of dark, dried fruit notes and an aroma of freshly baked bread. As my first bowlful approached its end, I felt enlightened; I felt my spirit finally at peace, floating contently through time and space and into other realms that were strange and beautiful. Truth be told, I'm not even sure just how long I was "out of it."
The next thing I remember was walking into Sykes' office. “I will always be grateful for the opportunity, but I’m afraid I must request an indefinite sabbatical," I told him. "Although it will be very difficult to leave this place, I have to summon the courage to see this journey through." He couldn’t tell if I was serious as I continued my cryptic explanation. "I will take my final pay in the form of Wessex Brown Virginia Flake, please". I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life. Fortunately, Sykes is an understanding man who knows exactly what it’s like to find a tobacco that one can really share a life with. We shook hands and he wished me well.
I gave my car away, abandoned my home and set out on foot with a rucksack full of Brown Virginia Flake, a few trusty briars and my loyal canine companion by my side. I walked and walked until the days turned into months. I slept under the stars. I fished in the streams for my supper. I carved "BROWN VIRGINIA SHANE WAS HERE" in the oak trees. Young women smiled and winked at me as they passed me on the side of the road; they knew I couldn’t care less and they wanted me more because of it. Others would tell me that whatever I was smoking smelled wonderful. "I know," I would reply and I would be on my way. The world finally made sense to me. I was free and happy. One evening I took the last few puffs of a bowl, laid down my head, the night sky above, and drifted to off sleep.
Seemingly in an instant, I awoke in a panic. I looked around and recognized my living room furniture, my apartment; my old life. It was all a dream? The confusion was devastating. Did I really imagine all of that? I looked over to the end table and noticed an open tin of Wessex Brown Virginia with a few flakes missing. I really had tried the blend, and it truly was dreamy.
Shane Ireland: Copywriter & Customer Service Representative
Comments
I just stumbled upon this and I have to agree.....I found my blend!
Nice write up!
good writing！