I should preface this how-to article thusly: I like cigar odor. I adore cigar odor. Current and residual cigar odor. I find great comfort in them. Why, I used to carry a burnt nub in my pants pocket whenst I went to synagogue. It was a Reconstructonist congregation and I wanted Hashem to know, by odor, I was no faygala. I kid of course. Though since then I've become friendly with a local Chabad Rabbi -- with whom I share an occasional cigar.
Second preface? My wife hates cigar smoke. Residual more-so than smoke-smoke... although the smoke-smoke doth occur on the porch-porch as mandated by our particular holy matrimony. So I have learnt a balance. I have learned a spectrum of tolerance and acceptability on the non-smoker's behalf. Thusly, whenst doth I delve, as I am 'bout to, into the topic of cigar deodorizing -- there shall be levels. You shall see.
Prefaces now noted and aside, lettuce a caveat. I will touch on smoke-smoke only once and here: always ask permission to light. Unless yer in a smoking lounge. Or alone and expected to be-so for the duration of stogie. Ventilate, don't blow smoke toward a non-smoker; be an overall gentleperson, gentleperson. You are not a cigar smoker even in to company of a close pal -- you are instead an ambassador of premium cigars. Always offer a cigar to company before you light. You offer it in silent gesture, as etiquette dictates, after you ask their permission to light. Think thusly: "Do you tolerate?" Then, "Do ya imbibe?"
"I'm getting there."
Another popular question I get is some variation of "How many cigars do you smoke in a day?" I take this as an incognito asking of "How many cigars can I smoke without getting cancer?" Therefore, within that, my mindset -- I take this whole topic truly as: "How can I smoke wherest-ever I wish, sans repercussions?"
Irving was a simple fella. A nice enough sort with a small life of menial job and mostly affordable mortgage. When not working, he frequented a neighborhood pub, where he hid from his wife of some 30 years. One night, a skunk followed him home from said pub. Now at first, Irving was quite on-his-toes concerned about the potential odor. In short time, this was assuaged by the cuddly nature of the skunk. It followed Irving into his mud-room where it nuzzled into his lap as Irving sat to remove his shoes.
Irving decided to keep his new friend in the garage; away from the nagging eyes of his Mrs. The bond they formed was seemingly strengthened each day. Irving stopped going to the pub and began hanging out with his smelly pal. Then winter set in. It was cold in the unheated and uninsulated garage. Irving had to do the last thing he ever wanted to do -- speak to his wife. Ask that his pet skunk find sanctuary from winter in their home.
That night over a supper of three-day-old meatloaf, Irving carefully related the story of his skunk friend to Gladys. After several moments of looking at him in a dumbstruck manner, she said,
"But what of the smell?"
"Oh Gladys, if I got used to it -- so will he."
LEVEL I
Maintaining General Cleanliness
Say ya live alone or with a someone whom allows smoking. Even in my preferred case, as I noted above, there are times whenst an airing-out cleaning is nice. Open a window, 'natch. Throw all launder-able fabrics into laundry. Spray upholstery with a 50/50 cleaning vinegar/water. Put that concoction aside and then clean all ammonia-friendly surfaces with, yes, ammonia. Half-cup per gallon of water. Non-ammonia-friendly hard surfaces get the vinegar treatment. All supplies will run ya a few bucks, total. Plus, you'll be cleaning sans stuffs that smell like a heavyset French whore stuffing handfuls of Skittles in her mouth... at this level, anyways.
LEVEL II
Company Comes Calling
What kinda company? Pals get the Level I treatment. Family members and the fairer sex (whichever that is now-a-days, but you get the gist) get that -- and scented candles. Think of incense, too... though that requires a certain audience lest Aunt Ida think yer smoking the marijuana cigarettes. Level I is harsh-smelling but fleeting. Level II additions come on slow and take time to build, particularly candles. Time appropriately. Chase that heavyset French whore stuffing handfuls of Skittles in her mouth... let her stay just outta reach.
LEVEL III
What The Wife Don't Know...
According to the Mrs. you are banned from in-door cigar smoking. You don't argue; because why? Humsover, winter is cold for you as 'tis for Irving's pet skunk. Or perhaps there was a poker game whenst wifey was away. What to do? Why, Levels I & II, soitenly and thoroughly. This, too: essential oils-based room spray. See, smoke rises, it's what it does. Oils are weighty 'nuff to bring it down. Down to wherest? Excellent query; to wherest you'll have carpet sprinkle waiting. Go to the store and get whatever vacuum-up-able stuffs say "Deodorizing" on them. Also some form of "Maximum" or "Pet" strength. Ya dog, ya.You may even wanna leave the powder sprinkled out on the carpet -- a cue for the returning wifey to attend to house chores. Then again, you may also wanna poke a bear, go hang-gliding, or stick yer noggin in a gator's maw. None of these are advised nor endorsed by moi. Actually, none of Level III is...
A note: if Level II states, as it doth: "Chase that heavyset French whore stuffing handfuls of Skittles in her mouth... let her stay just outta reach." You tackle and bound the harlot here in Level III. I won't go into the psychology of whore/wife here, because I am not a complete and utter imbecile, gentlepersons. Neither are you, hopefully.
An important note: whilst I & II can be accomplished via treatment of the immediate area, III requires the entire residence get did -- or at least surrounding rooms.
[6/7/17 edit/addendum]
A NOTE RE:
PERSONAL HYGIENE:
Brush yer teeth and use mouthwash. Too, wash yer clothes -- particularly after 'herfing.' Going so-far as disrobing before entering the wife's house. Too and also, I recommend the tact of wiping around yer smoke-hole's exterior with rubbing alcohol, and the rubbing some on yer mitts.
L'shalom