Oh, I wuz bored. At that special stage of boredom which leads, inexorably, to Ebay.
Why had it taken so long to realise how my life would benefit from a wind-resistant torch-flame cigarette-lighter? A post-ban prezzie to self. No huddled hands over an expiring match for moi. No. I would cope in style, with a gentleman's accoutrement of a leather and chrome Colibri torch-flame lighter which would make the social non-smokers jealous. A snip, a veritable "bargin" at a tenner with post from the Land of the Free.
Didn't disappoint in the actualitay either. Nice black leather, good chrome on the metalwork, well-proportioned, comfy in the pocket. Would only flame into being if the gas was turned up to nearly full-whack, but it worked and for nearly a week I enjoyed first or second-click blue-flame action. The gas did need topping up a few times, mind...
But then disaster. A stray strand of tobacco must've loosened itself on ignition and posited a speck of ashy-detritis into the burning-chamber. Click, click, click, whoosh of gas, no flame. Again and again. Tried blowing into the chamber. No action. Tried shaking it, tapping it, blowing it again. Nothing. Refill with gas and repeat. As a last resort, I got the vacuum-cleaner out and administered full-suction. Joy and rapture, that did the trick.
Until next time I fumbled slightly and another speck of tobacco landed on the burner. Here, I mused, whilst giving it another dose of 1000watt Electrolux suction, is the cigarette-lighter that hates smoking. The lighter that throws a hissy-fit [quite literally] should it come into contact with a cigarette. It could have Mandy Sandford's wizened old face on it.
Not least because, although smoking is very low on the list of potential distractions for drivers, someway behind talking to a passenger for example; with a torch-lighter, the risk-profile surely changes. Ferra start, in most light-conditions, you can't actually see the flame. At night, the illumination from the thin blue jet is insufficient to guide one's peripheral vision in making the judgement as to where the cigarette's end may be. In bright daylight, it's just invisible. The only way to be sure it's ignited is by the sound. A failed-strike gives whooshing-gas sound, success gives a roar. It's quite loud, but the difference is too subtle to be of much use whilst driving.
And did I mention the gas-consumption? In order to achieve the perfect conditions necessary for combustion, the butane is forced out under considerable pressure. Considering the lighter now needs anything from 4 to 50+ presses to ignite and that, should a rogue butterfly beat it's wings somewhere in Bolivia, the flame will expire again in a second, the half-gramme of stored-butane needs replenishing at least every other day.
So ferra properly windproof-lighter, I'm considering Zippo again. Petrol in Your Pocket they may be but once again, I am confirmed in my old-gittery: tradition over innovation.
Now, have I told you about my experiences with the vintage Gillette Super-Speed?
Labels: bored bored bored, minutiae, smoking, Smoking Ban, stop-smoking