So I ordered the book.
That makes sense, right?
Today I did things that mostly consisted of sitting in Jason's car while he drove, and we both yelled things like "WHY ARE YOU DOING THAT, YOU BIG STUPID IDIOT? DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW TO DRIVE?"
The answer is no, I don't think most people do know how to drive.
Last Saturday, when I was staying at my mom's house, I went to a hookah bar for the very first time with some friends.
When we got to the "bar" there was only one spot in the whole parking lot that was for five establishments. Unfortunately, this spot was in the very back, right across from a garbage can that probably had a dead body in it. Not wanting to get car jacked, or raped, we drove to the Walmart across the street and parked there, waiting for the others to arrive so we could all walk to our destination together.
Once inside I was instantly hit by a wall of smoke and not-good music, but it was cold inside and hot outside, and I see these people maybe once a month so I was going to endure the atmosphere.
We picked two tables next to a giant fountain that had bubbles in it, for some reason, and ordered some sort of flavor hookah that I don't remember. To me they're all just tablets of firedeath, anyway. I ordered a Pepsi even though it was $2 because I was out on the town and wanted to live a little. Also I was pretty sure I was going to be murdered that night when walking back to the car, so what was $2, really?
Half an hour or so after sitting down, we were served our beverages, and almost immediately after that half our group left. One of them had work at nine in the morning, they said, but actually I believe they just wanted to leave before the scary rapist criminals left their holes and vans with blacked-out windows.
Fearing for our lives, since the two boys left our group and only four of us girls remained, we asked the server (I use that term lightly because I know what a good server is, and she was poop) if she could just cancel our order because we wanted to leave.
"Oh, you leave now? But why...? It is right here," she said, pointing somewhere behind her. Really, though, I believe she was lying and hadn't even set it up or told anyone we'd ordered it at all.
Us being polite ladies, we told her alright. We would wait.
Fifteen minutes later she brought it out.
After waiting forty-five minutes plus, I expected some magical contraption to come out, so I was disappointed when a regular-old hookah pipe thingy was placed on our table. It was kind of teal-colored, but other than that it was boring. It wasn't even at all sparkly. I rubbed it a little bit, even, and there was no genie.
Everyone else was smoking, and initially I was going to try some because sometimes I like to be impulsive and do things I usually wouldn't, but that's how my hair ends up brown. Most importantly, though, I'm allergic to smoke. I bet you're thinking "THEN WHY'D YOU GO TO A HOOKAH BAR, STUPID?" Well! I'm allergic to cats, but I can be around one and hold one. I just can't rub it on my face or inhale its dander.
There's also the thing about how tobacco is bad for you, and even though there's not nicotine in hookah, it's still not good for your body. So, really guiz, stop saying "IT'S NOT NICOTINE IT'S OKAY." No, it's not. Stfu.
I'm destroying my body enough by drinking soda and eating fresh fruits and vegetables maybe once a week.
After they finished, or got bored, I don't know, we walked to the car as fast as we could, keys in hand, ready to stab an attacker at any moment! Ahha!
We weren't attacked, though, and we all made it home alive, unraped.
Success!
NOTE: Don't you legally have to be eighteen years old to do hookah? Because that lady didn't card any of us, and some of us look like children. This contributed to the shadiness.
BAI.
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