“Iwascompletelyuninterested,”Herklots
says.“Asakid, I’dseenoldmensmoking
cigarsonthebenchatthemall,waiting
fortheirwives.Thecigarssmelledterrible,
andIdidn’tget it.Butmyroommatesaid
hewasgoing in, soI followed. Itwas like
walking intoacompletelydierentworld:
aroomfilledwith leatherchairs,all these
guysalldoingthesamething,great jazz
playing— itwascompelling.SoIhada
cupofcoeeandtookapuofmyfirst
cigar—anAshtonClassicPanatela. Itwas
aflavorI’dnevertasted,amediumI’dnever
experienced.Arguably, Istilldidn’tget it.
ButnowIwantedto.”
Hegot it. Inanarche likenstoabusboy
eventuallyopeninghisownrestaurant,
Herklots,now34, isthevicepresidentof
retailandbranddevelopment forthe
legendaryNewYorktobacconistNat
Sherman.Nowhe lightsup from15to20
cigarsaweekanddownssizableamounts
ofespresso.Hehassomemoney.The
asthma isundercontrol.
IT’SSETTINGUP
tobeatypicalweek for
MichaelHerklots:acigarandwinetasting
witha journalistoneeveningatCharlie
Palmer’sAureolerestaurant;adayat
H
HEWAS 18,ASTHMATIC,DIDN’TSMOKE
ANDHADNOMONEY.SOTHELASTTHING
MICHAELHERKLOTSWANTEDTODOWAS
GO INTOACIGARSHOP.HERKLOTS,A
DRUMMER,WASENROLLEDATBERKLEE
COLLEGEOFMUSIC. EVERYDAY,HE
ANDHISROOMMATESWOULDTAKEA
DIFFERENTWALKTHROUGHBOSTON.ON
THISDAY,WANDERINGDOWNNEWBURY
STREET, THEYCAMETOACIGARBAR.
WINTER
AA.COM CELEBRATEDLIVING
