Swisher Sweet

It’s near the end of the night, last band’s on stage. It’s been a lonnnnnng night. There’s only about ten people tops in the bar, I have time to start cleaning up around them.

I sweep upstairs, wipe off the tables. I go in the bathrooms, sweep up, take the trash out. Now, I think I’ll go in the green room, clean that up a bit.

Stop the story for a bit. Listen, band members. I know all your shenanigans in the green room. You like to bring in outside alcohol. Could you maybe throw the empties in the trash? I know, you like to smoke in there. Your cigarettes…your “wacky-tobacky.” I don’t approve of that however. When I catch you, I ask you to kindly put it out. Second time? You get on my shit list. Go outside, band members. It’s nice out. Go smoke your cigarettes out there. Go out the side door, guess what? You can drink your PBR out there, too.

Back to the story.

As I approach the green room, I smell the unmistakeable odor that is a Swisher Sweet. I don’t mind the smell actually. I just don’t like the smell of it IN MY BAR. I grab the door knob, I brace myself for a confrontation. I open the door…huh. No one here. But I swear I smell someone smoking a Swisher Sweet. Maybe they just got done doing it, I wasn’t quick enough to bust them. Whatever. As I’m picking up empty glasses, I see something out of the corner of my eye. We have an old stage speaker that doesn’t work in the green room. People put their drinks on there, no worries. But RIGHT NOW what do I see? A SWISHER SWEET ON THE EDGE OF THE SPEAKER BURNING!!!! Yeah, that’s right. It’s just sitting there going, without anybody in the room. Are you kidding me? This is impossible to comprehend. Are you that stoned out of your mind that you can’t put YOUR SWISHER SWEET OUT!!!!!

I snatch it up, grab a plastic cup with beer at the bottom, throw it in.

You know, I LIKE MY JOB. Place burns down, I’M OUT OF A JOB.

And you’re out of a place to smoke.

-Clint Curtis

Swisher Photo

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