The other day I was running on the North Side of Delmar (Joe...I saw Andrea earlier in the run...she waved and I made an awkward wave/thumbs-up/rockstar horns at her while she was walking with a bunch of PFs.) and I ran passed the rip-off of a hookah bar there and somebody let out a big cloud of shisha right as I was going by.
Now, ordinarily I get a little perturbed when non-particulate matter strikes me as I exercise (cough...MetroBus...cough) but I totally had an olfactory memory that made me realize something.
I miss Sultan.
As such, I've decided to articulate my five favorite Hookah Memories. (Again...if this bothers any members of the audience who may have had Spontaneous Pneumothoracies in the past...my apologies.)
5. Obligatory Fraternity Hookah Reference: Alan and I freshman year following fratboy bowling when I first realized I could blow smoke rings (which, BTW, I did with a cigarette the day my finals got over and managed to impress several of my half-exhausted classmates).
4. This night...and all of the fun that revolved from it. Basically any circumstance involving Buddah--because what's better than a hookah with a 5 gallon water chamber?
3. The random night last year when Alan, I, Andrea, Joe and Rena (remember her? Anyone?) sat around completely spontaneously and enjoyed the wonder that was white peach. Mmmm...white peach.
2. Any one of the dozens of nights that we smoked and drank and watched movies and generally acted like idiots. Yay college. (Particularly- The night we watched Carlito's way. I don't know why...that just worked for me.)
1. The night that we watched Never Cry Wolf with the lights off and, I think, smoked for two hours straight. I firmly remember not being able to walk when I stood up to pee.
