Telefunken
by Jilliana
Ranicar-Breese
My mother and
I were staying at the elegant hotel Splendide in
Lugano, Switzerland in the mid 1980’s.
My husband accused me of starting him smoking
Havanas because I bought a box for him at the
Paris duty free shop. That apparently got him
hooked.
I was amused to see about 20 seed havanas on the
mantle piece in the empty lounge each with a band
with the words ‘Telefunken’.
The delegates were nowhere to be found. They must
I presumed be in the dining room. The cigars were
given by the company as a gesture of good will to
accompany their after dinner brandies.
I thought of my husband’s love for cigars
but had no idea if they were Havanas. I didn’t
just steal one or two, I stole the lot.
My mother was furious and insisted I return them
at once. I refused and couldn’t stop
laughing. My husband was thrilled with my booty
when I got back.
Written
at Nightingale 24/11/24
|
