Confessions of a Humidor — Memoirs from Inside the Box

My Name Is Humidor, and I Have Stories

I've been standing in this smoke shop for years now. Temperature controlled. Humidity regulated. Spanish cedar walls that I'm told give me "character." Day in and day out, I hold the cigars. I watch the customers. And let me tell you — if these walls could talk, they'd need a podcast.

Here are my confessions.

The Squeeze Test Guy

Every shop has one. He walks in, bypasses all conversation, and heads straight for me. Then he starts squeezing. Every. Single. Cigar. Pinching them between his thumb and forefinger like he's checking avocados at the grocery store.

Sir. Those are hand-rolled Dominican puros, not stress balls.

He squeezes thirty cigars, buys none, and leaves. He'll be back next Saturday. He's always back next Saturday.

The "Is This Cuban?" Customer

I hear this at least once a week. Someone picks up a $7 Macanudo and asks — with complete sincerity — "Is this a Cuban?"

No. No, it is not. It says "Dominican Republic" right on the band. But they don't read the band. They never read the band.

One time a guy picked up a ACID Blondie — a flavored, infused, Connecticut-wrapped cigar that smells like a vanilla candle — and asked if it was Cuban. I would have sighed if I had lungs.

The Cigar for a "Special Occasion"

People come in looking for a cigar for a "special occasion" roughly nine times more often than special occasions actually occur. Weddings. Promotions. Baby announcements. "My buddy's coming over."

That last one is not a special occasion, but I respect the energy.

The real special occasion people are great, though. They're excited. They listen to the staff's recommendations. They hold the cigar like it matters. I like those people. I hope their occasions go well.

The Flavor Descriptor Olympics

Experienced cigar smokers talk about flavor the way sommeliers talk about wine — except sometimes more unhinged.

I've heard someone describe a cigar as having "notes of barnyard hay with a retrohale of fresh leather and a finish that reminds me of my grandfather's workshop."

Your grandfather's workshop? You're smoking a Perdomo. It tastes like cedar and nuts. But sure, grandpa's workshop. I'll allow it.

My favorite was the person who said a Padron had "dark cocoa with undertones of existential satisfaction." I don't know what that means. I don't think they knew either. But they said it with such confidence that everyone nodded.

The "Just Browsing" to Full Haul Pipeline

This happens multiple times a week. Someone walks in and says "I'm just looking." They make eye contact with me. They step inside.

Five minutes later they're holding three sticks. Ten minutes later they're asking about the Padron 1926. Fifteen minutes later they're at the register with a Fuente, two Olivas, a Padron, and a new cutter they "needed."

Nobody "just browses" in a humidor. The humidor always wins.

The Temperature Debate

Customers sometimes touch my walls and comment on the temperature. "Is it supposed to be this cool?" Yes. "Feels a little warm today." It's 68 degrees, same as yesterday, same as every day. I am literally built to maintain a stable environment.

One time the power went out for four hours and I managed to hold humidity through sheer force of cedar and craftsmanship. Nobody thanked me. The cigars know, though. The cigars know.

My Favorite Regulars

For all the characters, my favorite people are the regulars. The ones who walk in, know exactly where their brand sits on my shelves, grab two or three, and chat with the staff like old friends.

There's the Tuesday afternoon guy who always gets the same Oliva and tells the staff about his week. The couple who come in on Fridays and pick out cigars for the weekend together. The first responders who grab a stick after a long shift.

They don't squeeze the cigars. They don't ask if things are Cuban. They just appreciate what's in front of them.

I hold their cigars at a perfect 70% humidity until they're ready. It's not much, but it's honest work.

The Night Shift

After the shop closes, it's just me and the cigars. Rows and rows of them, quietly aging. Sometimes I imagine them having conversations. The Padrons are dignified and quiet. The ACIDs are loud and smell like a candle store. The Fuentes tell old family stories.

The unbanded house blends sit in the corner, trying to convince everyone they're just as good as the name brands. Honestly? Some of them are. But don't tell the Padrons I said that.

Come Visit

I'm at Cigar and Smoke Shop, inside Arundel Mills Mall. I'm the big wooden room in the back that smells incredible. Come browse my shelves. Squeeze a cigar if you must — but gently, please.

The staff here take excellent care of me and my collection. They'll take excellent care of you, too.

Arundel Mills Mall, Hanover, MD · 443-755-5141