What is the deal with African-Americans and their insatiable appetite for flavored cigars? I know the easiest possible answer is that they believe that it compliments a cocktail after work while they discuss the challenges of closing that big account. By account, I mean food stamps; by work, I mean standing on a street corner or sitting on a porch; by cocktail, I mean anything purchased for less that $1.99 usually in a 40 ounce container and by challenges I am obviously speaking of Whitey.
As consumers, we all succumb to one vice or another. I, for example, enjoy buying healthy mutual funds. Nothing refreshes me like earning 2.25% on my hard earned dollar. Tyrone, on the other hand, likes to invest his fortune in sour apple flavored cigarillos in which to dissect the contents and replace them with a nice $10 bag of his hood's finest green. Couple that with a stout malt liquor and you've got the makings of an evening filled with culture and promise like no other.
Somewhere along the way, I would imagine a distinguished black gentlemen (who, for the purpose of this point, will be named Alabama Slavefoot) finished giving a moving presentation to a group of investors regarding the cost effectiveness of mutli-scented, pine tree air fresheners sold in bunches of 30 rather than individually. This would save time for black people who drove late model cars and provide a more powerful scent to accompany shitty rap music.
As Alabama Slavefoot concluded his point, he walked outside and lit up a nice Black & Mild.
"Mmmmm Mmm", said Alabama Slavefoot
"This Black and Mild be what a nigga was needin' all motherfuckin' day and shit"
Pioneers like Alabama Slavefoot paved the way for Asians and Indian (dot, not feather) entrepeneurs to begin offering such wares to the masses of black people who would keep shares of Swisher stock pegged to the ceiling for decades to come. Find me one liquor store in a lower-income area that does not sell every flavor of cigar known to man and I'll show you a white guy not afraid to yell NIGGER on the corner of 110th St. in Harlem.
It is commerce that seperates our cultures, not inequality. I think if we want to put an end to hate and racism then we should all light up a watermelon flavored cigar and put it to our banana sized lips and take a deep breath in just like Alabama Slavefoot.
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