We all have shops that we love, but if you could have a shop in your area that was everything you could want. What would it look like? What would make it awesome?
What is your dream B&M?
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As you enter the door, you time travel back to the dawn of the 20th century. Greeted by a shimmering flapper girl handing out 7 day sets of amber stem silver spigot BBB’s as door prizes. The wood and marble laden smoke lounge has a fondue fountain cascading with Margate. No taxes. Peace on earth.
Haha! You had to ask, didn't you? My B&M is a tavern/tobacconist, much like an old medieval style inn or western style saloon. I suppose they didn't change much in all that time. But aside from serving food and a bar and having rooms to rent upstairs, it also deals in pipes and tobacco. I've mentioned this before... Now the name of this establishment is The Busty Pirate and it's proprietor is a gnomish fellow, about 2 feet tall, long beard and curly mustaches and spectacles, does all his business standing atop the bar. He serves a fine ale and blends some wonderful pipe mixtures, sometimes he'll sit back atop the bar smoking a churchwarden, resting the bowl on his feet. There's a wizard that often frequents the place with an uncanny resemblance to Chasingembers, always curling his mustaches and going on and on about some 904 shaped pipes and such. He's a nice guy... a little flatulent though. He eats a lot of beans. Basically the Busty Pirate is an all wooden structure with wooden floors and walls, beautifully hand carved oak bar and railing on the stairs, and a cozy stone fireplace. Ironically there's an actual busty pirate that spends time there as well. Usually you can find her sitting in the corner near the fire place with her feet propped up on a table drinking a large flagon of ale. She'll give you a wink or two... sometimes a jiggle if she likes you. She trips often when she's walking around though, on account of being so top heavy. Now the place is usually quite nice, but every once in a while a few orcs or minotaurs might get rowdy. But the little gnomish fella usually handles them himself. He's not afraid to jump up and grab a minotaur by the nose ring and lead him right out the door. Magnificent establishment. :mrgreen:
It would be just like the store across Grafton St. from Trinity College. Great humidor, pipe selection, an impeccable reputation and knowledgeable staff. great inventory and a long history. It is were in my town I'd have an apartment one floor up.
19th C, no? 20th C would be naugahyde and plastic covered sofas, some chrome and maybe some painted oak furniture.
Let's see...working fieldstone fireplaces, rough-hewn ceiling beams, and a pine plank floor darkened with age and covered with thick Oriental rugs. Patrons' dogs are here, and there are plenty of well-used comfy leather wing-back chairs, some maroon, some dark green, and others black. Tall antique display cases flank one wall, and in front of them are glass-topped wooden counter cases. All are full of new-old-stock pipes of your favorite pedigree including Barling, Sasieni, Comoys, Dunhill, and Astleys; well-cared-for estate pipes; accessories of every description; and bounteous supplies of tinned original Edgeworth Ready-Rubbed, Condor, Escudo, and other favorite pipe-tobaccos. Paneled walls are covered with classic tobacco advertisements and framed hunting prints and paintings by Osthaus, Frost, and Clark, among others.
The air is scented with the delightful aromas of tobacco and fresh-brewed coffee. It hums with the snap and crackle of the fire logs; the gentle rings of the manual cash-register and the pleasant sloshing of the coins in its drawer as it opens and closes; the tick and chime of a large key-wound Regulator clock; quiet conversation, punctuated with occasional laughter; and greetings as old friends arrive and depart. Here there are no cell-phones, or televisions; rather, there is a shelf of good books and stacks of magazines, the topics of which are of interest to pipe-smokers. Yellow incandescent lamp light washes the store, and the irregular flare and twinkle of wooden matches being lit catch the eye. Come in, fill your pipe from one of the open containers on the counter, warm yourself in front of a fireplace, then find a chair and swap news and stories with the proprietor and your friends. Pet the dog who has ambled over and put its head on your knee, sip your pipe and your coffee, and savor the moment. You're always welcome here.
The air is scented with the delightful aromas of tobacco and fresh-brewed coffee. It hums with the snap and crackle of the fire logs; the gentle rings of the manual cash-register and the pleasant sloshing of the coins in its drawer as it opens and closes; the tick and chime of a large key-wound Regulator clock; quiet conversation, punctuated with occasional laughter; and greetings as old friends arrive and depart. Here there are no cell-phones, or televisions; rather, there is a shelf of good books and stacks of magazines, the topics of which are of interest to pipe-smokers. Yellow incandescent lamp light washes the store, and the irregular flare and twinkle of wooden matches being lit catch the eye. Come in, fill your pipe from one of the open containers on the counter, warm yourself in front of a fireplace, then find a chair and swap news and stories with the proprietor and your friends. Pet the dog who has ambled over and put its head on your knee, sip your pipe and your coffee, and savor the moment. You're always welcome here.
Large, with lots of places to set up laptops and work, easy access to Royal Yacht, a tavern and indoor gun range.
For me, it would be a combination of two, now long gone, tobacconists that I used to frequent. Copley's, where I was introduced to the pleasures and arcane mysteries of the pipe, and Gus' Smoke Shop. There was always the wonderful scent of the fine tobaccos that Copley's blended, along with all that arcane ephemera, like Toby jugs and other strange stuff, stacks of the finest tinned tobaccos, and cases of truly marvelous pipes.
Initially, I began to amass a list of all the things that make a tobacco shop great: leather furniture, stone walls and lots of wood, great selection of pipes and tobacco, knowledgeable staff, and convivial atmosphere. Then, it hit me. In my perfect world, the tobaccos and pipes would be on offer in one secluded area of a very traditional private gentleman's club. I was in London some years ago and spent a lovely afternoon and evening at Boodle's. In fact, it was magic. Time there has utterly stopped. No cell phones, no computers, no televisions, no jingling cash registers. It is an oasis where men can relax, enjoy quality conversation, and enjoy some of life's simple pleasures, thoroughly defended from the intrusions on their pursuits that they parked at the door. Yes, I did have on a suit and tie. Yes, I did have a proper whisky. Yes, I continually observed the room to see of 007 had arrived. On the way back to the hotel, I also realized that the experience had left me calm and refreshed. For me, that experience coupled with a tobacconist in residence would make the perfect place.
Cheers,
Chili
Cheers,
Chili
Anything that is not the RYO/Vape shop we have now. He's got some shitty over priced pearwood pipes and 2 tins of W.O Larsen for $30.
Oh, and it needs a smoking lounge.
Oh, and it needs a smoking lounge.
A wall full of tinned tobaccos, a humidor full of bulk blends, and boutique & top notch cigars, display cases full of top end pipes representing artists from around the world, a smoking lounge with a seat saved for me, a kitchen that you can keep you beverages cool, a microwave to dry your tobaccos a tad, and everytime I walk through the door everyone yells, "Cosmic!!!" and they're truly happy to see me. Well, that would be The Briary. The only thing that would make it better would be if Skip let just me try any of the pipes I wanted. He'll pretty much let me try any bulk to tin that I want, but I try not to abuse it. :
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After checking out every pipe shop in every town I visit, I am lucky as hell to live near this one. Pipemakers just happening to drop in, tobacco reps walking through, tossing everyone samples, "Hey look, did Rad just drop in?" Anything I could say about this place seems like the dream pipeshop, down to the wise cracking employees that are truly the nicest folks you could meet.
:After checking out every pipe shop in every town I visit, I am lucky as hell to live near this one. Pipemakers just happening to drop in, tobacco reps walking through, tossing everyone samples, "Hey look, did Rad just drop in?" Anything I could say about this place seems like the dream pipeshop, down to the wise cracking employees that are truly the nicest folks you could meet.
Blatter&Blatter in Montreal. The pipes, the tobacco tins and the tobacco smell. Most importantly,knowing that the pipe workshop is in the back, full of mysteries and craftsman secrets.
I wish I had a Briary near me.
I'd have to go with Anthony's vision. I would just like to add a few things.
1. There's a ranger wearing a dark green cloak sitting in a dark corner booth that always has an adventure for us.
2. There's LOTS of busty ladies. lol
3. Everyone get's their own private humidor locker.
4. Comfy leather arm chairs
5. A cork for the curly mustached wizards anus.
6. Every tobacco ever made is available.
I'd have to go with Anthony's vision. I would just like to add a few things.
1. There's a ranger wearing a dark green cloak sitting in a dark corner booth that always has an adventure for us.
2. There's LOTS of busty ladies. lol
3. Everyone get's their own private humidor locker.
4. Comfy leather arm chairs
5. A cork for the curly mustached wizards anus.
6. Every tobacco ever made is available.
Mine would be Peretti's with a lounge attached. I used to go there as a kid with my dad and always remembered the great smells.
I have a dream.
It would look and smell old, wood panelling, that sort of thing. All the tobacco would be back in their original tins before the tobacco fascists got at them and at the door, I would have a life-size Churchill just as in my avatar and he would be telling the tobacco nazi's to piss off because we shall never surrender. Most importantly, I would live above it in a maisonette. It too would have wood panelling but also a balcony to pour boiling oil on the zombies clamouring to spread their anti-smoking disease by rapping on my shop windows during the tobaccopolypse. It would be a place of free choice, a haven of happiness where the reasoned of the species could enjoy their lives without it being a prescription from a beige bureaucrat with a pleasurectomy. You will be able to say what you like and tell anyone who is offended to grow up. There will be no wifi and drinks will, of course, be served and served only in the correct vessel for the beverage requested. There will be no advertising other than the stock on display and the staff would be expert and expert because they care. And because it's THAT time of year again I would like to make it crystal clear that we would never, ever play Christmas music.
It would look and smell old, wood panelling, that sort of thing. All the tobacco would be back in their original tins before the tobacco fascists got at them and at the door, I would have a life-size Churchill just as in my avatar and he would be telling the tobacco nazi's to piss off because we shall never surrender. Most importantly, I would live above it in a maisonette. It too would have wood panelling but also a balcony to pour boiling oil on the zombies clamouring to spread their anti-smoking disease by rapping on my shop windows during the tobaccopolypse. It would be a place of free choice, a haven of happiness where the reasoned of the species could enjoy their lives without it being a prescription from a beige bureaucrat with a pleasurectomy. You will be able to say what you like and tell anyone who is offended to grow up. There will be no wifi and drinks will, of course, be served and served only in the correct vessel for the beverage requested. There will be no advertising other than the stock on display and the staff would be expert and expert because they care. And because it's THAT time of year again I would like to make it crystal clear that we would never, ever play Christmas music.
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