Less than 10 minutes after waking, I threw up cigar chunks into my master bathroom toilet.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise.
Twelve hours earlier, the groom and I were celebrating his upcoming wedding with a night on the town in historic downtown Leesburg, Virginia.
As you might have guessed, this night included alcohol and stogies.
We drank and walked and talked and smoked and drank some more. We hopped from restaurant to restaurant, downing wine and beer and whiskey, all the while drawing down a box of cigars purchased at the local tobacconist.
At one point, the groom had me laughing so hard that I bit down on the cigar butt, crumbling the outer paper, which I inhaled, coughed up, then involuntarily swallowed.
I washed it down with a swig of wine—all of it came up the next morning.
Gross, I know.
But it perfectly illustrates the entire point of this article...