Bacchanalian nirvana at the Tobacco Bowl, Iowa City

UPDATE: Tobacco Bowl has since closed.

He-Man and Man-At-Arms do make a lovely May-September couple. Teela is resigned to this fact, and endures.
 

Fortune favored me in a most destructive way. Upon exiting the bus from Coralville at the Pentacrest stop I stumbled about downtown Iowa City until I came upon the Tobacco Bowl, a coffee and cigarette joint, and luxuriated in the stench of American cigarettes.

Iowa is a "no smoking inside" state, but the Tobacco Bowl is one of those rare establishments where their tobacco sales exceed eighty percent of their revenue, so they can legally allow smoking within their confines.

I delighted in this legally sanctioned "middle finger" to the status quo and took my time in selecting a fine cigar to burn. I eventually settled on a Rigoletto Black Magic and complimented that with a large black coffee, no decaf. I worked up to a major buzz!

I rarely smoke, but sometimes the urge comes. I've had a few cigarettes over the last couple of years, but cannot remember the last time I lit up a stogey. I was in a Bacchanalian nirvana. Little did I know that Rigoletto would be the worst of my transgressions for the day. How disappointing!

Cylon!?!?!

Lighting up!

Two weeks later I was back in Iowa City again for a respite and felt the pull of the Tobacco Bowl for a sweet hit of Sister Nicotina. Outside I came across a dude down on his luck, hitting up folk for some copper as they went in and out of the Bowl. I felt generous but had no small bills, so I told him I'd fill his hand after my purchase.

Inside I had a taste for something less wieldly than a cigar and opted for a half-dozen cigarillos and the little wooden case they came in as a bonus. Hard-luck dude saddled up beside me for some of the Tobacco Bowl's heady joe, so I palmed him three bucks and change.

With booty in hand, I walked outside, lit up and enjoyed the tobacco rush amidst the freshly-fallen snow and cold, crisp air.