Starting the day off right with a bad pun.

Posted: October 25, 2006 in best things, Family, Journal, kids

I’m hookah’ed.

Last night, Lilly and Marie kindly invited me to join them at a nearby hookah bar to hang out for a couple of hours. Lilly and I followed Marie up there (so a certain old person could go home at bed time, allowing the young and hip to hookah the night away), and Lilly has a couple of cheesy-shameful grin-shots of me on her digital camera, as well as one of my best Cousin It impersonations as the wind from the open windows caused my vision to be hazardously diminished by my blowing hair. I shall steal them as soon as she puts them on her MySpace page.

So this place is kind of dingy, kind of seedy, kind of beatnik. I reminded myself that I am a young thirty-two, and settled with the girls on one of the be-cushioned platforms. Marie ordered up a pipe with the air of a person who has done this more than once, “Strawberry-peach-mango, just one hose please.” When the pipe arrived, she arranged the coals on top and puffed away to get the pipe going. Then she handed the hose to me and with an evil grin said, “You have to suck it hard.”

Expected risque laughter ensues.

It wasn’t at all like I expected. I figured it would taste something like the cigars Calvin and I have been indulging in lately (hot and woody with the flavor left on the lips but not on the palate), but what I got instead was a cool smoky infusion of (shock!) strawberry, mango, and peach. The smoke was very cool and didn’t rasp the throat, and it was thick and heavy and drifted quite sexily from the mouth. It dispersed immediately instead of hanging around to be annoying.

We ordered up a bit of food and some sodas, and sat passing the hose around, gabbing, and saying hi to Marie and Lilly’s friends who frequent the place. I really enjoyed it, and I’m going to drag Calvin over there sometime. I have a feeling he’d like it, too. I mentioned this to the girls, and Lilly said, “Oh NO. Now you know where to find us.”

Nothing like crashing a daughter’s hide-out to make you feel young.


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