Paul Mans

Many years ago when I was little, Paul Mans’s store was a small, dimly lit cigar shop infused with the rich, sweet scent of dried tobacco. You entered through a small door on the left, which looked like the entryway to a regular house but as soon as it opened that smell of tobacco would waft out into the open air. I’ve never smoked a day in my life, never had the urge to do so, but I love that intoxicating, fruity smell that reminds me of my early teens when I would sit on the ground in front of the magazine rack at Mans browsing through the teenybopper mags in the hope that one of them would feature an article about my favorite boybands. I would save up all my pocket money to get the magazines imported from England and Germany, before I even knew much German. And if there was any money left over I’d grab a Twix (or were they called Raiders?) from the front counter.
Nowadays the store looks very different. Bright and modern with a door opening the width of the entire shop. The magazines, candy, and even the tobacco are still there, though you can no longer buy cigarettes from a machine on the outside wall (I guess they started enforcing age limits). Paul Mans and his wife still run the same shop, and to me they look the same as they always have, only with a little more gray hair. You can still smell the tobacco, but it no longer fills the room, which is reminiscent of a train station newsagent. Oh well. The store looks more inviting now and I’m sure they do better business, but in my mind Paul Mans’s store will always be that dark, fragrant store where I spent many happy hours browsing through magazines.