Experience 1: The Mean Streets of Westport

It's only fitting that my first experience be the most dramatic thing I've ever done. I went to a hookah bar. Yeah, that's right. How rebellious of me. But let me start at the beginning.

To understand all of this, you need a little background. I had nothing planned for Saturday night and, having spent my Friday night napping and catching up on The Big Bang Theory, I wanted to do something. So, after mentioning my desire to go clubbling to my brother's girlfriend Grace when describing this assignment, I decided to see what she was up to. Grace is a college student (UMKC) and has college student friends. That's relevant because most of my friends are younger than me and thus cannot participate in the new, 18+ things that I am going to try. Anyway, Grace invited me to hang out with her and a couple of friends, Noha and Lara, that night, and mentioned that Lara wanted to go hookahing. It's not clubbing, but I figured that I could convice them to go when I got there. I finally managed to get to Grace's apartment and thus began Girl's Night Out:

Jerusalem Cafe. It's a small, old building with narrow hallways and bathrooms meant for midgets. But the food is delicious. Grace and I split a plate of Shawarma, a mound of curry marinated chicken and grilled vegetables on a pita with a side of rice and yogurt. I was skeptical at first, but it proved to be scrumptious. After our filling meal and stimulating conversation about college life and boys, Lara lead us up the terrifyingly steep, narrow stairs to the hookah bar. We were greeted with a hazy, dim room filled with tables and people and a relaxed man who searched for a table, carded us, and led the way to another room. We sat at a rickety table in the back of the bar, listened to the sitar-filled music and browsed the flavors while Lara gave us a crash course in hookah 101. We decided on strawberry pina colada and were brought a tall, skinny, candelabra-esque contraption with a tube attached to it. It was probably one of the stangest things I have seen. Eventually we were moved to the front room which had a much better vibe to it; the other people in the back seemed like they had been smoking something else entirely before coming to hookah. We talked some more and around 11:30 decided to go back to Grace's aparment. Luckily my parents had given me permission to spend the night; somehow, I think that coming home smelling like smoke and pina colada wouldn't have flown with my dad. We walked back down the steps of death and out of the restaurant onto the streets of Westport.

Walking around Westport in the middle of the night is a strange experience. There are more people out than there were at 7 or 8, and it's almost as bright as day. There were all sorts of characters around. One woman had on 6-inch stilettos and booty shorts that showed off her leg tatoos. She was going to America's Pub, though, which explains a lot. As we headed back to our car, we ran across a street toward the parking lot and then I was on the ground. And back up again before I was even sure what happened. I'm still not sure about what happened. But then I was hobbling to the sidewalk with scraped up knees, and Grace, Noha, and Lara were asking if I was all right. I didn't know. Everything had happened so quickly. One moment I was trotting alongside Grace and the next I was kissing the streets of Westport. But we made it to the car and then to Grace's apartment without further mishaps and it wasn't until we were all sitting in the kitchen in our borrowed pajamas that it hit me.

Falling is really funny. As we sat sipping virgin pina coladas and munching on chocolate chip cookie brownies, I bandaged my knees with Neosporin, panty liners and tape, and each of us recounted our point of view on the falling incident. I haven't laughed that hard and for that long in a very long time. I'm still giggling as I remember it. We finished the evening with an episode of Pushing Daisies, running around the apartment opening windows because Grace set off the fire alarm at 2 in the morning when she burnt her muffins, some more hearty laughter, and sleep.

All in all, I feel no need to go to a hookah bar again. While it was a good experience to have, I don't think that it will be added to my list of fun activites. Regardless, I had quite the experience.