I've told the story before, but it is a good cautionary tale.
Around twenty three years ago, a buddy and I were out driving around goofing off, probably looking for a race (we were around sixteen or seventeen) and stopped by an upscale tobacco shop and bought some ten dollar cigars (this would have been around 1983, give or take, so a ten dollar cigar was probably a pretty darned pricey stick at the time). Having never been around cigars or those who smoked them, we were tragically ignorant of proper procedure. In fact, neither of us were even smokers. We both inhaled those suckers, and being young males would not admit to the burning in our throats and chests as we smoked them, and held back the nausea as long as we could. Alas, the forces of nature were not to be denied and we were both about as green as a Dr. Seuss character somewhere around the halfway point. It took another fifteen years before I even tried another cigar.
I don't recall the brand, but I can't forget the sensation...