5 Questions You NEVER Ask an Experienced Cigar Smoker
A Rant By Tommy Zman Zarzecki
Cigar smoking is a passion, a passion that grips a person’s soul and becomes a very part of his overall lifestyle. We longtime, experienced lovers of the leaf not only adore our hand rolled delights, but we’ll go out of our way to help a newbie learn the many ins-and-outs of this smoke-filled pastime. For the most part, we are a patient lot, lending our cigar knowledge in every way we can to enrich the lives of others who wish to join the ranks of the hand rolled honor society.
Did I say that we are patient? Well… to a point. There are those who test our patience from time to time and admittedly, it gets on our nerves – coming from those who don’t smoke cigars, and worse yet, from those who loathe our sacred rite of relaxation.
Let me put this as plain and simple as I can… some people ask us stogie lovers the dumbest and most annoying shit humanly possible. Then there are those who rudely ask us to do things with our beloved sticks that require us to use great restraint while holding back from administering both a verbal and physical beat down. So, now that I’ve got your attention, below I give you my personal list of the 5 things you just never, ever ask an accomplished longtime cigar smoker.
This is never a question asked with an innocent tone by those who have a sincere interest in your well-being. It’s asked by haters and smoke Nazis who are trying to forcefully thrust their values and beliefs upon you and me. There are those who troll their way onto the Cigar Advisor Facebook page with posts like, “You’re all going to die”, and “I hope you enjoy your cancer”. Do they post on skydiver forums and say, “I hope your chute doesn’t open”? I often answer their question with a series of questions to them… do you drink alcohol, eat anything fried, enjoy some cakes or candies, drink sugar-filled carbonated drinks or worse yet – diet soda, munch on salt-laden snack treats… damn, do ever you bungee jump or ride on roller coasters? I’ll often get a snide retort like, “yeah, but I do that stuff in moderation”. Yeah, well, Mr. Save Me From Myself douchebag, so do I. I enjoy a legal adult pleasure that calms my mind and brings down my blood pressure in a world full of arrogant budinsky [email protected]%ktards like you. So, the final thing I always ask a belligerent turd like this, is, “Why do you ask a rude and asinine question like that, instead of minding your own damned business and just live and let live?”
Yes, I have actually been asked this a number of times over the past few years and unfortunately, it’s never from a super-hot babe, but always from a sweaty, middle-aged guy waddling around in a 8x t-shit. All kidding aside, this is just foul and disgusting and I always have this look of horror and disbelief when asked. I guess to some people, hygiene is overrated. I’ve watched younger guys who vape take hits off each other’s mods and that skeeves me out, but to take someone else’s soaking wet stogie and place it between your own lips? Good God, stop me from talking about this immediately. If the FDA wants warnings on cigar boxes, how ‘bout we get one approved from the World Health Organization for this disease ridden practice.
What chu tawkin’ ‘bout Willis?! Listen, I’ve said it time and time again that I am a conscientious cigar smoker and I continually profess that everyone who loves the leaf should be. I don’t smoke near crowds of people, people I don’t know, and never around children. And while there are fewer places than ever where puffing is permitted, I will always seek out those hallowed bastions of smokiness to enjoy my passion. But do you think that matters? Not really, because the haters will always hate. I’ve had people more than 75 plus feet away on the other side of a quiet city street that will start hacking and gagging as if the black plague had made an unannounced comeback. Of course that comes equipped with waiving of the arms like they’re being attacked by a swarm of hornets. “Can you just go somewhere else with that stinking weed,” one rude couple demanded. I’m in the middle of a big city, 25 yards away, with pollutants being spewed by trucks, taxis and busses at every turn, yet you claim that I’m the one giving you black lung? Once in Vegas at a high-end casino I chose to play at a blackjack table with a sign that clearly said smoking permitted. As I fired up my tasty Inferno Flashpoint, two grouchy elder shrews sat down next to me and had the gall to ask me to move to another table. I reached out and grabbed the “smoking permitted” sign, placing it directly in front of them and said, “I’m sorry, ladies, I don’t have my glasses… can you gals tell me what that says?” After a few salty old-school expletives, they decided that expanding their barnyard-door asses at the buffet was a better choice.
Here I am, sitting on a bench on a beautiful day… I’m enjoying the hell out of a tasty Punch Gran Puro Nicaragua… not another human in site. Up comes a woman pushing a stroller who asks me to put my cigar out. I say that there is 200 billion sq feet of wide open space for the smoke to dissipate into the stratosphere and all you have to do is just keep walking by. She replies in her snarky tone, “It’s people like you who are killing our children.” So I peer into the stroller and it is empty, no child in sight. “Are you married to the Invisible Man?” …it was a fair question. She asks, more like demands in a stern tone to put out my cigar, the one I just lit only five minutes ago. If you’re a longtime cigar smoker like me, you’ve been asked this on golf courses, at barbecues, in casinos, hell, even smoke-friendly bars, and it never gets any easier to deal with. If I’m in a place where smoking is permitted, no, I will NOT put out my cigar. Again, I am very conscientious cigar smoker and I make sure I’m way clear of others, but again, the rude intolerance of the hateful many is appalling. We’re nothing but pariahs to them and in their minds, we basically have no rights. But guess what – we do. I will be nice and polite for as long as I can, but I have my limits and I am defending my rights. “No, lady, I will not put out my cigar… and that kid of yours is nothing to look at.”
It’s perhaps the number one moronic question of choice asked by novices and knuckleheads alike and I have stabbed people for less. Ok, kidding about the stabbing, but this is one hell of a peeve of mine and yeah, you’ve seen me write about it before. All right, I admit that this is not a question asked by the horribly rude haters, but it still just frosts my onions all the same. When asked, I always take a deep breath and answer as politely as I can with a “No, it’s not a Cuban”… well, unless it really does happen to be a Cuban.
How about you guys share in the comments below, your thoughts on my list and give me some questions that make you crazy!