Early this week, my friend Steve tells me, “Cancel your plans for Wednesday: We’re going somewhere.” In true inquisitive fashion, I ask him where we’re going. He refuses to tell me, giving only the vaguest of hints: “It’s something you’ve said you wanted to do for a loooong time.”
I spent all day Sunday, parts of Monday, and all of Wednesday morning haranguing him about where we’re going, as well as the rest of my friends who were around him and either knew or had an idea of where we were going. No one would tell me, and I was getting rather angry at the time, since I hate suspense like this.
On Wednesday afternoon, all four of us pile into a taxi, with a destination I’m not entirely sure of at the time. All I knew was we were headed down to Howard and Swann, which only told me we were going near where Steve works at. Steve changes the directions at the last minute, bringing us a few blocks up from the intended destination. We all pile out of the taxi, and with a little misdirection, I almost didn’t see where we were going until I looked again.
On a door, the words “Ararat Hookah Lounge” were hanging from a sign, at which I swore, “Oh, you son of a bitch! :D” and started laughing as we walked up.
What threw me off was the fact that Jason was with us: Jason is a rather professed non-smoker, stating he doesn’t (didn’t? :)) like tobacco in any form, just like he normally will not drink beer as well.
We spent a couple of hours, gathered around the hookah that afternoon, just enjoying each other’s company, and the mellow smoke of the hookah. Sure, nothing’s good for you, and this certainly doesn’t qualify as something super-friendly to your body, but the amount of relaxation I got out of this was seriously sublime, and well worth my time that day.
If you like a little smoke, then this one’s for you. Cheers!
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