Reveal?

If you followed yesterday’s post, I was meeting with a cigar manufacturer that I am seriously considering repping her brand.

Well, the owner’s name is Stephanie Harris and the brand is the Black Label Trading Company.

Six delectable blends ranging from one wrapped in corojo called Royalty to the most full-bodied offering Last Rites a Nicaraguan, Honduran, Ecuadorian mix that’ll please hard-core smokers (and tinged with scads of flavor). The other four are Benediction, Salvation, Redemption, and Lawless.

Question is, to paraphrase an old commercial, “Will he or won’t he.”  Tomorrow is decision day.

Chicago – it’s inevitable.

I have a cigar manufacturer coming in tomorrow, or in case you read this later 9.29.15.  I will put in a full day and then meet her at a pre-designated shop to meet, talk and get to know her and of course try the cigar again.  Why?  I may pick it up.  It’s a damn good stick with an unusual profile in more ways than one.

One. it’s owned by a woman.  Few cigar companies are.  Two, the owner is sophisticated and has been around business enough to know the ups and downs of commerce.  Three, she’s not doing this on a lark. This is how she makes her living.  And, like other cigar manufacturers, she’s expanding into the Midwest.  A must.

Now whether or not the cigar makes it is a roll of the dice.  Marketing has been minimal.  Yet reviews have been stellar citing great construction, fruity flavors mingling with tinges of spice and a hint of old mother earth.  Most reviews add that there are a variety of changes on the palate thus making this a very complex cigar.  Praise is good.

Plus, I don’t mind that she’s flying in for a couple of days.  That’s the perfect amount of time any manufacturer ought to stick around.  Never wear out your welcome.

So let’s see what happens.  I won’t reveal its name or hers until I give the cigar another test run.  I’ve had a few already – ergo the trip.  It looks promising.  Indeed, this broker’s job isn’t easy, but it sure can be fun.

Give a little bit…Give a lot!

A cigar manufacturer finally comes out with what he or she believes is one of the best smokes on the planet.  (Or why come out with the stick in the first place.)  It’s a new brand, an unknown brand. Maybe the bloggers got ahold of one and have already reviewed it.  Maybe two, maybe three. Maybe a whole slew of bloggers are wetting their pants from  the excitement.  And oftimes, that method works like a charm.  The cigar does take hold on those criterion alone.  Other times, giving a cigar to a blogger is the the death knell of years (I would hope) of planning, testing, investing, and praying. And it flops.

But let’s say we’re on the positive side of the market and it IS a good cigar.  It has a unique flavor, the construction is next to perfect, the years of planning, testing, investing and praying begins to create a buzz.  The manufacturer can distribute the cigar in a variety of ways to get the brand into eager hands.  The easiest way to go about this is to offer it to Cigar International, or Famous, or Thompson, or some other online cigar source to further boost its growing reputation.  Maybe the cigar is reviewed by one of the magazines like Cigar Press, Cigar Snob, or (gush) Cigar Aficionado. And the ratings are respectable. So those folks who read those aforementioned reviews revs up the brand and the buzz gets louder – all due to the bloggers, and magazines (who often get the cigars for free) Hey, it appears that the new brand is on its way into the stratosphere of the cigar firmament of popularity.

Problem is, some manufacturers have a dislike to selling their cigars on the internet.  So how does a new cigar brand get in the market place if it chooses to use a broker – like me?  Now there’s the rub.  Time vs. instant reaction.  Because even though the brand has had some exposure, the majority of the smokers still haven’t heard of it.  I know this for a fact.  I walk into a shop, show the new boutique brand, and what’s the line I hear the most?  “Never heard of it.”  “Never heard of it!”  I’m agast!  Why, it got a 93 in CA, top billing in Cigar Press, even Cigar Snob wrote that it’s the next best thing to Padron.

It doesn’t matter.  The cigar smokers have to try it.  They have to put it through the test.  They have to smoke it.  Now if the manufacturer really knew how the system worked, they’d give us boxes of the new brand to pass out to the regulars.  Leave a box at the store so the owner can say to the customer after I’m long gone, “Say, I have a stick you might like.”   But no, the manufacturers (not all of ’em) hold back. They ration out the samples. They put restrictions on how many facings the shop owner has to purchase.   Hey, I almost worked with a guy who said give out one cigar per store and I guarantee you they will fall in love with my cigar and buy it. That type of thinking is delusional and it just does not work.  What works is getting the cigar in as many cigar smoker’s hands as possible so THEY can make up their minds.  So they can be the judges.  That’s how you sell a cigar.  And if the comments are positive, the giving away of multiple samples is worth its weight in gold ( a cliche, I know.)

So listen cigar manufacturer hopefuls, you may think your brand is the second coming of cigars, but the only way to know is to test it, give a little bit – give a lot, and if it holds up to the scrutiny of the guys more business will come your way.  That’s a guarantee.  But that’s the only way to know for sure.  Am I getting through here?

From this mess…

I’m a private person.  Putting stuff on Twitter, Facebook, LinkedIn etc. is traumatic enough, but when it comes to my life outside the business?  That’s my business.  So with trepidation, I have decided to give you a glimpse into the inner sanctum.  My desk.

I’m at it quite often, scheduling calls, fixing problems, making calls, writing letters, working on the computer, etc.  So why now?  Who cares anyway?  The condition of my desk may be as interesting to some as scrolling through Facebook looking at what lunch someone was served, what cigar started so ans so’s day, or blowing smoke into the camera.  Can’t say.

But here’s my reason today – I’m not always as organized as I would like to be.  Expectations are hard acts to follow.  It’s the ability to take a chaotic situation and make it calm, away from the action. Maybe my desk looks like it does because it’s where I can relax.  Throw the pen down, fling the paper, or ignore the business card.  It’s my haven.  My heaven.  It’s where I can chill and not worry a whit about what anybody thinks, if they think about things like this at all.

Enough.  Back to my privacy.

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A Breaking Sale!

I was in Michigan this week.  The weather was stupendous.  Bright.  Sunny.  Blue skies.  Absolutely ideal.  This is the kind of weather cigar shops like.  And I love it because it makes for more sales. Lots of sales.

All the sales this week were good.  But the one that stood out was today’s in East Lansing.  There’s an old cigar shop on MAC (Michigan Agricultural College) Ave called Campbell’s – The shop with the red door.  It was my last stop before I headed home.

As I walked in, I noticed that his pipe selection was a bit on the thin side.  So even though I concentrate on cigars, I suggested we take a look at the pipes I offer.  Josh, the pipe buyer, sat down with me and we went through my offerings.  He liked just about every one I had.  Especially an introduction assortment dozen.  All briar.  All classic.  All different with select shapes, sizes and shades.  And after a bit of the usual haggling, he bought the 12 pipes. And he really must have liked them because he just bought several dozen from his usual supplier, an old-timer who had, get that, had the territory locked up.   In short, Josh didn’t need my pipes, but he was smitten.

So I end up showing him cigars and he goes with a couple brands and the day ends on a good note.  I hop in my car and head for home.  It just so happened that my pipe supplier called me to see how the day went and lo – I didn’t know it but I broke my “pymen” with this sale.  “You are no longer a pipe virgin,” says my supplier.  Why?  Because I was able to get pipes into a store that my supplier has been trying to get into for some time but his competition – the veteran, always beat him to it.  I must say I was pleased.  I got my foot in the door and it didn’t even hurt.

Don’t judge. Wait.

I tried a new cigar today.  Not new to the world, but certainly to me.  I have to keep its name a secret because there’s a possibility that I’ll rep it.  But what I found to be disturbing was at the very beginning of the smoke, I was swayed to put it out.  It had a dull, no flavor lilt to it that really had me heading into the negative column.  I was at a shop testing it out, so I thought I had the time to concentrate on it while I waited for the owner to show up. How much time was the question.

Luckily the guy was late.  Really late   So I did have adequate time to smoke it.  And as I did it kept getting better and better and better.  Great construction, fabulous flavor, delightful aroma.  As I continued to enjoy the cigar, I was shocked, in retrospect, that I was so quick to judge.  I often criticize one owner who lights up a new cigar and before the butane has left the foot he says whether or not he gives it a thumbs up or thumbs down.  I roll my eyes when he does that (I do often wonder if he notices?)  Why?  Because to have an opinion about a cigar that fast is patently absurd.  But here I was – doing the same dumb thing.

So I went through the meeting (still smoking the cigar) but after I left I held on to my quick reaction I had about the taste of the cigar.  Could it be it was late in the day and I was just a bit tired of another cigar?  Could it be I really had a bad one?  Could it be I was becoming jaded?  I don’t know, but I did know to keep smoking it.  To give it a chance.  Had I not, its future would have been sealed – at least as far as I was concerned.

So again, experience trumped emotion and I’m damn glad it did.

Even in Detroit.

You’ll never guess where I was today.  OK.  The title gives it away.    Moving on.

I was visitiing La Casa Cigar lounge on Randolph.  Across from Comerica Park, which by the way, was jamming with people – game day.

La Casa is a gem of a cigar lounge in a city that has its problems.  Detroit once had 1.8 million people, today it supports about 700,000.  Detroit once had the higest per capita income in the US.  Not anymore.  In 1950 there were over 298,000 manufacturing jobs, two years ago that number had been reduced to 27,000.  At times 30 to 40 percent of the streetlights are dark.  The police force has been reduced by over 60%.  So you wonder why anyone would renovate an old building and turn it into a high-end cigar lounge in the aformentioned morass?

But someone did.  Yep.  The shop opened when the city was in its sloppy, soggy financial syrup of decay.  Why?  Simple.  No city wants to be known as a lost cause.  City leaders looked to investors that would build, that would revive, that would encourage others to take a chance.  What business do they embrace?  A high-end cigar lounge.  Why?  Because cigar lounges attract money.  Cigars attract money.  Cigar lounges draw in business.  Cigars, in short – are cash.

So the next time someone says to you how raunchy cigar lounges are, how they are antithetical to progress, that they bring in the wrong element – think of La Casa.  Think of Detroit.  Think about how this one oasis in a reviving city has given business leaders hope.  Courage to keep going.  They said OK to a high-end cigar lounge.  Wise choice.

Preoccupation with…

I have to concentrate on what I’m doing when I go to visit these cigar shops.  Everyone has his or her own approach, but I have to tell you when I’m preoccupied with, oh let’s say,a problem, I find it next to impossible to keep my thoughts on the matters at hand.  But the shop owner won’t pick up on it.  I’ve honed this skill over the years, and not only while brokering cigars.

The only thing I can say is that it takes a lot to take my mind away from the business.  So when it happens, and whatever it is that’s really bothering me grips me with such a force that won’t let go I have to rely on some coping skills that I’ve incorporated into my work time – my life.

That’s what happened today.  A busy day.  A good day.  A challenging day.  But I will say I was glad when i decided to call it quits and headed to the hotel.  I could feel the matter pressing on my brain but at least I could soon concentrate on it.  Think it through. Perhaps try to solve the situation or at best decompartmentailize it.

So at the hotel, I took a deep breath and mentally went back to when I was in St. Croix this past summer – removed from everything.  I  made an attempt to sort the matter out.  I didn’t resolve it, but at least I could muse about how I handled it and that made for a very interesting evening.  I guess so I could gear up for Day 3.

Mission to Gars.

When I’m on the road, it can be a bit lonely.  No, I’m not looking for sympathy, maybe empathy.  But you drive to the shops, you stop in, talk, buddy up, do what you have to do.  Most trips end up ok. They really do.  Maybe not right away that day, but eventually. But it’s that small percentage of time when I find myself in a quandary about what do I do?  Do I bend, do I discount, do I sell my DNA for a sale because I know a sale is a sale.  That’s everything in life.  Sales.  An accomplishment is an accomplishment.  But you have to feel good about what you end up doing.  At least this broker does.  And there’s that time when you don’t feel so good about it.  The deal is just wrong.  No,you don’t become the hero, you become the patsy.  The flat cartoon figure just rolled over by the 10-ton rock.  I could be that one dimentional image, but I’m not made up that way. I don’t roll over, and beg.

What I do do is take off my protective helmet and float off into space.  For Woody, from Mission to Mars, hell, he saved Terri’s life by giving up his own.  And you know something, I would do that too if I were in that situation – but I’m not.  It’s a sale.  It’s just a sale.  Another will come along.  So, I chill out and walk away.  I have to do this now and then.  I have to face myself tomorrow.  I couldn’t do that, if I didn’t every so often freeze and just float away.  Indeed, I really would end up like Woody.  Dead.  In space.  And that’s not part of my DNA.