The remedy is the same, go elsewhere. Finally, if you decide to take the plunge and try a cigar or two don’t spend money that you don’t need to. Often times I’ll see folks buy a fifteen-dollar cigar, a fifty-dollar cutter, and an eighty-dollar torch only to discover that it’s just not their cup o’ tea. Most good cigar bars will have “community” cutters and torches for you to use or offer inexpensive choices. A word of advice, don’t be the person to lick the end of the cigar before you cut it with a communal cutter. That’s gross, and there’s a good chance that the proprietor will tell you you’re gross and ask that you not be gross in their establishment. On that topic, there’s not much reason to lick or “wet” the head of the cigar (not a sentence I ever thought I’d write). It is a more common practice in European countries to prevent cracking when a cigar is clipped as they store them at a lower humidity level. One more point of etiquette; if you bring your own cigar to a cigar bar expect to pay a “cutting fee”, much like a corking fee you’d pay at a restaurant when you bring a bottle of wine with you. Now for the part where I apply peer pressure to subtly tempt you like a Siren calling wayward sailors to their untimely demise. Only I don’t want to smash you against some wet rock in the ocean, I want you to try a good cigar. For me, cigars are an escape. It’s an hour that I can spend with friends sharing a common interest and enjoying a little comradery.
Photo: John Domrzalski
Or, it’s an hour I can spend in total silence. A chance to be introspective, alone with my thoughts, or no thoughts at all. As I’m walking up to the lounge I can smell a dozen different cigars burning creating a medley of scent and taste. The room is full of people sitting at the bar, in leather chairs and couches, or high top tables. The conversations vary from business to sports to the “I’m not as good as I once was, but I’m as good once as I ever was,” tales of days long lost. I decide on a cigar for the evening, a Leaf by Oscar Sumatra. Not too light, not too dark. Crisp and flavorful but not heavy. I prefer that cigar with a dark beer like Sweet Baby Jesus. I settle in to my seat, a deep leather chair, and light up. The first few draws on the cigar is where the relaxation begins for me. Taking the smoke in and letting it settle on my tongue. Tasting the flavors as they change and mellow as I slowly let it roll out creating a halo of dissipating stress that floats away into the air. For the next 45 minutes I get to enjoy the ever-changing personality of the tobacco as it burns closer and closer to the end. Good conversation with my wife and friends and libations add to the pleasantry. The evening comes to a close as the pint glass gives up her last bit of nectar and the Leaf begins to lose her warmth. The ashtray is filled with small delicate logs of what was, just minutes earlier, a premium tobacco. If even for a short time everything is right in the world. All my worries carried away on a magic carpet of aromatic smoke, lost forever with each exhale. Until next time, when the planets need to be aligned with a cigar, a cutter, a torch, and a tasty adult beverage. Go. Give it a try. You’ll like it. Photo: John Domrzalski
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