The cigarette machine: A Fixture That Became a Rarity

(NYTimes) There once existed in every city barroom a sort of scruffy, lively, lovely symphony that played without rest and without ovation. But its members are falling away; background sounds once familiar have been silenced. The jangle of the pay phone on the wall, the click of the lighter, the snap and hiss of a match being lighted.
To those retired players in New York City bars, add the hulking workhorse in the back of the pit. It played all night: thunk, thunk, thunk, as the coins dropped into the slot, followed by the grinding crank of unseen gears as the rod was yanked out. The short solo ended modestly, like a tap on a high hat, with the whisper of a pack of smokes wrapped in plastic film sliding into the tray below. Continued

Image by Ben Schumin, some rights reserved.