My college roommate had a certain propensity for dairy products. If you were to match hatches in our apartment, it would be with drained gallon milk jugs and empty chocolate pudding containers. More than likely at least one of pudding containers would have the spoon hard-welded to the side, inevitably toppling the container under its weight. So it only stands to reason that when a rerun of “The Big Lebowski” came across the screen, that a White Russian kick followed. I’ve lost track of the duration, but Josh tells me it went on for at least a month and four or five bottles of vodka. Sounds about right. I don’t think I’ve ever attached myself so religiously to a beverage. If I was forced to pick favorites, I enjoy Moscow Mules, and I enjoy Xingu, a Brazilian black lager. My favorite bar has both, so I drink them regularly enough, but not like that particular period. That was just impressive.
The first half of the next day was similar, with regular reminders of the mojitos. By high noon and a slow in the fishing, those mojitos were sounding very tempting. And that was two hours before we headed back to the marina. Once we tipped out our guides and gathered the gear, we walked the couple blocks to J&J Habanos. Certainly it was nice to get out of the sun; that’s a bit of a given in a desert area. Second, once my eyes adjusted, I realized this place had a serious cigar selection. In a place like Los Cabos, you are constantly bombarded with Cuban cigars for sale, counterfeit and otherwise. J&J was the place every other cigar vendor should have aspired to be. The entryway was subdued and professional, rather than the garish exteriors of the usual tourist destination shops. The shopkeepers were welcoming and knowledgeable, and exceptionally friendly.
Maybe I need to work on my priorities, or maybe I just need another mojito.
*I figured the “Most Interesting Man in the World” caption theme was fitting, even if in the beginning it was unintended.