5 Outrageous Characters You’ll Find at Every Herf

5 Outrageous Characters You’ll Find at Every Herf

5 Outrageous Characters You’ll Find at Every Herf

By Tommy Zman Zarzecki

Ah, the beloved Herf – a gathering of people who smoke cigars, imbibe some liquid goodness, maybe break some bread, and throw the proverbial bull for hours on end. It’s a most wonderful ritual, bringing folks from all walks of life together, who sit and do nothing, while accomplishing absolutely nothing… other than enjoying the camaraderie and having your loved ones yell when you arrive home stinking like a tire fire.

The Herf brings out smokers of every class, from newbie 101 to tobacco-toking veterans of decades gone past and everything in between. Now, when attending a decent sized gathering of ash masters, you’ll generally find 5 personality types – some will piss you off, some, you will gravitate to, and some of these leafy archetypes may actually be you. Now, see below, as I present to you these 5 most outrageous characters…

 

moocher at every herfThe Malevolent Moocher…He’s a conniving little shit, with beady eyes and a penchant for removing quality smokes from your travel humidor. You’ll find him and others like him at every damned herf, bumming the finest smokes, because he is indeed, a scathing, bottom feeding bum, 1st class. This miscreant joins his brothers and sisters of the leaf for a day or night of puffing pleasure, but there’s one thing that always seems to be missing… HIS OWN CIGARS! This prick is so cheap, he rides a crowded subway just to get his clothes pressed. He’s a bona fide puro predator, making every excuse why he forgot his box of Padron ‘26’s, because he knows you’ll pity the ingrate, while convincing you to relinquish a stick or two from your stash. Word to the wise… when you see this steaming tobacco turd slithering your way, make sure to just say no… that, and a swift kick to the jimmies will always send the proper message.

 

cigar band flasher herfThe Cigar Band Flasher…“Ooooh, look at me, look at me,” he’s saying with his gestures, as he waves his Opus X around like the checkered flag guy at the Indy 500. Five or six boxes of Cuban contraband sit on the stool next to him while he lets the entire bar know exactly how much he laid out for the Vegas Robainas that just came in from Geneva. While us regular folk have our bookies and ganja dealers, this Bolivar braggart has his Swiss connection on speed dial, speaking loudly into the phone so even the guys in the kitchen can hear that he’s putting in another hefty order for some real-deal Cohibas. Unless this brash boner is actually handing out his law-breaking bounty, I couldn’t give a rat’s ash about his pricey sticks, and I wish this sanctimonious gasbag would just STFU and enjoy the Herf.

hand cigars out at a herfMr. Benevolent…While your run of the mill Herf features a number of abrasive and unsavory cretins, Mr. Benevolent is here to save the day, while restoring your faith in humanity. This cheerful brother of the leaf is truly the real spirit of Herfiness as he totes his war chest of a travel humidor around, bringing enough premium aged goodness for everyone in attendance – yeah, even that mooching little son of a bitch. Plain and simple, the guy is a tobacco philanthropist. “Would you like a Fuente Don Carlos?” he asks with a smile on his face. “Perhaps a Black Market… oooh, wait, I have some really tasty Aging Room Maduros… just tell me what you like!” Compassionate, caring, generous and altruistic, this patron saint of sun grown goodness is a breath of fresh air in a room full of sweaty fat bastids in 6 XL t-shirts.

 

dropping names at aherfThe Notorious Name Dropper…He’s the ultimate fanboy of the cigar world, puffing away on the sticks of his favorite manufacturers while regaling the room with many a tale of hanging with stogie royalty. “Did I ever tell you guys about the time I was at Nick Perdomo’s house, playing his drums out on the veranda while getting shit faced on rum runners all night?,” he’ll ask, while a Perdomo 20th Anniversary dangles from his lying jaw. “Then there was the time Jonathan Drew invited me on a 125 foot yacht down in Miami and I beat Jose Blanco in a fried conch eating contest. Damn, those guys love me!” Do tell, my friend, do tell… “And then there was the night when… uh, hang on guys, Rocky’s calling me… yeah, hey Rock… you’re what? You’re naming your new Shih Tzu after me? Gosh, I don’t know what to say!” Well, I do – you’re completely full of Shinola! Now go hang out with the Cigar Band Flasher, ‘cuz you two bloviating bores will get along quite nicely.

 

no life herfNo Life Larry…He shows his face at every Herf, every, every cigar-b-que, every cigar dinner, and every back yard gathering. Why? Because, as the name so clearly illustrates, this torpedo toking dullard has NO life. With all the social skills of an orangutan at a black tie brunch, he talks about cigars and only cigars – it’s all he knows and all he cares about. He has no time for movies or TV, the Dow Jones average bores him, he saw a Mets game once when he was in third grade, and he gets the snot beat out of him any time he’s ever talked about politics. Ask him if he thinks Obama Care should be repealed and his answer will be that Erik Espinosa is appearing at Stogie Planet next Saturday. Show him a picture of your kids and he’ll show you how his maduro is canoeing. Ask him what he does for a living and you’ll find out he watches movies all day on his iPad at the local cigar lounge. And ya think Larry’s ever kissed a girl? Come on, who has that kind of time when you’re planning your 132nd trip to Cigar Safari.

So, there they are, the 5 Outrageous Ones who fortunately or unfortunately make their presence felt at every damned Herf. So, let’s hear your thoughts in the comments below – have you met one of these fellows, and better yet, is there anyone to add to the list? Lay it on me guys, I wanna hear from you!

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Tommy Zman Zarzecki

Tommy Zman Zarzecki

Editor-at-Large at Cigar Advisor

Tommy Zman, is an obsessive enjoyer of life’s leafy pleasures. Growing up in the bowels of northern New Jersey, parented by an eccentric Polish father and a neurotic Italian mother, what else could this man possibly be other than a humorist? ZMan’s a real throwback to a time when men were kings of the castle and smoking a cigar in public didn’t label you an outcast and a pariah. He’s an old–school down to earth guy - but when it comes to p.c. tyranny and nanny-state legislature, he’ll draw his sword and swing for the fences. Tommy gathered a faithful following as a longtime feature writer at Cigar Magazine, and his testosterone laden FaceBook community, CROMAG NATION™ is truly the last great bastion for Men’s Men.