Don't be a Douchebag: Another age-old question

I was procrastinating the other day* and came across this question, posited by the grandmaster of cigar publications, Cigar Aficionado: 

When going to a cigar lounge or bar, should you purchase a cigar from the establishment, or is it OK to bring your own?

We've long-debated this question, feeling shifty about smoking our own but also faced with the dilemma: When you own several thousand cigars and suffer through New England winters (and springs, obviously, said the girl who would soon be stuck on a highway behind a copse of heavy-duty sanders for way too long), you must patronize cigar lounges to smoke more than three rapid-fire puffs. 

This happened last year. Sooo...thank heavens for cigar lounges!

May I quote my mom, a very wise woman? 

If you question whether something could technically be wrong, it probably is. In other words, if your conscious causes you a milli-moment of doubt, you shouldn't be doing it. Don't do it.

Look, you're welcome to smoke your own, especially if a particular cigar holds your fancy hostage, ruining you for any another. Outside is out of the question, as Mother Nature gets in her moods. Enter: the cigar lounge. Or you enter the cigar lounge. Whatever.

So, yes! Smoke your own. But! Also! Buy a damn cigar. Support the shop. 

Pick up something you've never tried before. Get an old favorite you're running low on. Donate a couple to Cigars for Warriors! Buy one and hand it to a friend.

Please please please don't do this.
You know that, karmically,
announcing what you did negates any good deed, right?

If, say, 50% of the people who went into that lounge only smoked their own and didn't make any purchases, how long will the shop stay in business? Although the precise answer would involve math,** we can say with conviction, "Not as long as you'd want it to be."

Some shops charge a "cutting fee" (usually around $10) if you bring a cigar and don't make a purchase. Don't bitch about this fee. Ever. We will fight you.

An aside: Cigar lounges, might we make a suggestion? Since you aren't LOSING any money when someone comes in with his or her own cigar and you feel obligated to charge the cutting fee, might we recommend donating this money (or a portion of it) to a charity or non-profit? It might make the charge a little less horrible in the patron's eye--although most everyone we know understands the reasoning behind it.

Another alternative: Take out a membership at your favorite lounge(s). You won't have to make a purchase each time you want to smoke, plus you'll get additional advantages, like discounts, members-only events, advance notice of sales, perhaps a humidified locker, and definitely some new, awesome friends. (As a matter of fact, I'm currently writing this in the members' room of one of our home-base lounges!)

For the entire Cigar Aficionado answer, go here.

*If you know me, then you know this could be any day of the week, any time of day.

**Math is dumb.

Don't be a douchebag: Facebook edition

No fewer than seventy gabillion (and counting) Facebook cigar groups exist and many many Cigarz Facebookerz belong to at least half of those, with a handful active participants.

Dude, it's really really hard to miss you.

No biggie, right?

Right. 

Unless.  Oh yes. Unless.

(source)

Unless you happen to be friends with one of the oversharers. Then Facebook becomes the digital equivalent of Groundhog Day, but without Bill Murray's almighty quirkiness.  Here's how it goes:

Phase One: 

That's nice. A -----cigar with a pithy sentence or two. 

::scroll::

Oh. Same picture and text. 

::scroll::

Same pic and text. 

Or had to see the same Facebook post over and over and over...
(source)

Phase Two:

The picture and words. 

::scroll::

Picture. Words. Same. 

::scroll::

Is this ever going to stop? The same pictures and same damn words. 

(source)

Phase Three:

Dear God in heaven, is this ever going to stop?

::scroll::

What evil have I committed to make me have to look at this same picture and same text ad infinitum?

::scroll:: ::scroll:: ::scroll::

Unfriends that person, no longer caring about a long friendship or shared memories. You just want to stop seeing the same picture this decade. 

But I want people to see that I have this cigar, you say. 

No one cares.

(source)

There. I said it. And I know you aren't listening, instead thinking smugly, "You aren't talking about me. People want to see what I post."

Yes I am. And no...they don't. 

Choose two groups and post your picture. If you can't choose just two, then stagger your posts over the course of the day and change the damn text with each post. If you can't think of clever text to go with the picture, then why the hell are you putting it up at all?

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Cigar Lounge Manners: No Trash Talking

"Dude. Really? A _____ [cigar brand]*?"

The smoker at the bar looks at his premium cigar as if for the first time, and finally says, "I really like these. It has good flavor. Have you had it?"

The instigator, rather than looking sheepish, gives the cigar another blast of Stinkeye. "No, but it's a _____. How good can it possibly be?"

The smoker takes a thoughtful puff, blows smoke out his nose like a cartoon bull, smiles like the Cheshire Cat...

...and says, "Pretty fucking good."

Unvocalized questions rattled around my noggin all night: Why? Why do people (a very small contingent, but still, enough to make a difference) do that, dissing each others' cigars?

Do you do that?

Don't do that. Please don't ever ever do that. Please.

Just because you don't like something--or it's less expensive than what you usually smoke--doesn't mean it's bad. It means it doesn't fit your flavor profile. Don't be a douchebag snob.

If you were to blind smoke a few cigars, could you even name the group's brands? Probably not. Don't make that face at us. A well-established rep we know did a blind taste test and didn't know he was smoking his own newly-released cigar (which he's smoked several times before ).

*Mad Libs? Nope--although that's a really really fun game. Because we're super duper nice here, we're never going to say anything negative about any cigar brand. Fill in the blank at your own whim.

**Not even kidding. We don't say anything negative on the blog, but if you're an asshat and steal from us and our sponsor [to be announced soon], your douchebaggery will be publically proclaimed.

How to not be a douchebag: Outdoor kiosk edition

There we were, sitting in the open-air piazza at Regina Pizzeria during the St. Anthony's feast in the North end of Boston at the end of August. 

Know why this picture is so good?
Because Valentino took it.

We'd ordered our two favorite pies (We're creatures of habit.) and had a lovely view of alllllll the people milling by and our old friends Rolling Stogies and their lovely sticks while consuming as many slices of pizza as two people can handle and not die.*

Our seats were the perfect vantage point to watch people who have never smoked a cigar choose one and then fumble around, trying to figure out what to do next. We would have gotten up and offered assistance, because we're nice like that, but we didn't because 1. We waited in line for half an hour for those seats and we were going to sit in them until we were forcably removed or melted by glaring stares of other people waiting in line; and 2. Pizza.

Here's what we saw, as the next generation of cigar smokers tried to impress friends and girlfriends. We had the sad and did much head shaking. 

If you want to look like a suave, experienced cigar smoker, please learn from their mistakes.

Step 1: Consult your friends and say the names of the few cigars you've heard of. Ask if the proprietor has those.  
What you should do: Right now, go to a local cigar shop or lounge, and ask the proprietor for recommendations; be sure to tell him** you're a novice. He will not judge you. He will welcome you. Take pictures of the bands and keep them in your phone, as well as make note of some of the names. No one will know you're you're using a cheat sheet when you approach the cigar kiosk with your friends. 

Step 1.5: Mention that you wouldn't mind buying a Cuban if he has any. 
What you should do: Don't ask. Even if he did have them, which he doesn't, he wouldn't sell them to you. 

Step 1.75: Dodge laser beams of hate radiating from proprietor's eyes. 
What you should do: Not have to worry about it, because you didn't ask.

Step 2: Ignore what the proprietor says because that cigar band over there looks cool. (No judgements; I buy books because they have cool covers.)
What you should do: Listen to the person speaking to you. He is an expert, or at least more of an expert than you are. Respect his knowledge. His goal is to sell you something you're going to like so you come back for more. 

Step 3: Select one cigar randomly and ask "Is this a good one?"
What you should do: Just like with food, everyone has their own taste. What Valentino loves, you might not because of the strength or taste or nicotine level. That doesn't make the cigar bad--just not right for you. So is it a good one? Yes--selling junk would hurt the shop's reputation. As for the Rolling Stogies, they only have premium cigars, so yes, they're all "good ones."

Step 4: Ignore proprietor again because your friend makes an uneducated suggestion. 
What you should do: Unless your friend has experience with cigars, you probably want to ignore him and listen to the person who knows what he's talking about. Probably a good suggestion across the board. 

"We're professionals. We're here to help!"

Step 5: Ask how much it is. 
What you should do: A valid question, of course. Usually, prices are marked.  If price is a concern, you might want to say when you first start chatting, "I'm looking for something in the $8 range." 

Step 6: When you're told the price, say, "What? For one? That's ridiculous. Forget it, man."
What you should do: If you are shocked, balk silently so as to not embarrass yourself in front of your friends. Please. It's the least you can do. Cigar smokers do not quibble over prices. You're paying for a hand-rolled product. Don't be a cheap bastard.  

Step 7: Have a dumbfounded look on your face when they ask if you'd like it cut straight, V, or punched. 
What you should do: For the love of all that is good and holy, do not suggest biting the end off. If you're not sure, default to straight. This will make smoking a bit easier. When you get some experience, you can experiment with different cuts. 

Step 7.5: Say you'll cut it and then when you're handed the cutter, slide the cutter about half an inch. 
What you should do: You have two choices here. 1. Hand the cigar to the proprietor when he offers and watch how he does it so you know for next time. Or: 2. Snip a teeny bit, and when we say teeny, we mean about one-sixteenth of an inch. According to Cigar Aficionado, a bad cut will ruin a cigar, so it's probably best, in this casual setting where distractions abound, to leave it to the professional. 

Step 8: Ask for matches and then try to light a cigar with said matches. 
What you should do: Unfortunately for you and the cigar, lighting a cigar with matches is difficult in general but definitely in this wind. We know you want to do it old school, but reject the challenge and use the proprietor's torch lighter he has at the ready.  If you're inside, go for it, but outside...meh. Your friends are only going to wait so long.

That's Mike (the Rolling Stogies owner), a good student,
and a slew of onlookers getting schooled.
Why is this weirdly blurry, you ask?
Sigh. Photography by Penny

Step 9: Puff once or twice because you saw someone on TV do that, feel satisfied and smug and walk away cockily. Realize twenty feet away that the cigar is out. 
What you should do: Lighting a cigar is a process that can't be rushed, like toasting a marshmallow, according to Cigar Aficionado. If your friends won't wait for you to complete the process because they light their cigs in a nanosecond, tell them you'll catch up with them. Otherwise you're going to be stuck with a dead stick pronto. 

Step 10: Hold your cigar with two fingers (pointer and thumb) while looking at the sky. Inhale. Raise your arm towards the sky and the arc it down like you're rowing a canoe. Blow the smoke straight up like you're a human smokestack. 
What you should do: Not that. Since we can't be there, we're going to suggest at this point, watch how the guys in the Rolling Stogies tent are smoking their cigars. 



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So there you have it. We want you to look like a classy dude (or dudette). We want you to be the one folks look up to! We can help! Stick with us and we'll get you there!!



*Actually, Valentino saved a teeny tiny bit of room because our friend Omar was across the way shucking clams for immediate consumption as well. Then there was an arancini with my name on it too. It's always a big food day. Wheeeeee!

**Or her, obviously, but the he/she thing will clutter the writing.