wow do i ever feel old...

there was a point in time in my life, 10 years or so ago, when i smoked a lot of weed. a LOT of weed. i was a frequent patron at the head shop near the college campus, and the staff knew me by name... but that was a long time ago... i got married, got my shit together, got a career, got divorced, etc... it seems like only yesterday to me, but i now know beyond a doubt that it was a lot farther away than yesterday...

see, some friends and i are getting together for a summer cookout tomorrow, and after speaking to the host, i decided it might be fun to smoke a little weed while enjoying the food and outdoors... problem is, i didnt actually know anyone anymore who smoked... fortunately, i know someone who works in a call center, and everyone knows call centers are usually full of potheads (draw your own conclusions here folks), so he hooked me up...

but thats just the beginning... i still needed to make a trip to a head shop for all the many accessories needed to effectively enjoy the sweet chiba... most of the head shops i knew of back in the day were long gone, or only had locations way the hell out of the way for me, but after looking around i found one nearby...

The Rage Shop

now, the name should have been my first clue that i wasnt dealing with the greatful-dead-loving stuck-in-the-60s kind of head shop... but nope, didnt give it a second thought...

so here i am, pulling up in my shiny new grand marquis, that old-folks car extraorinaire... and stroll right through the door to the wide staring eyes of a bunch of teenagers that looked like they just stepped off the set of a hellraiser movie... no way any one of them would EVER make it through a metal detector... one of them (henceforth known as "dude") finally closes his mouth, then says "duuuude... are you, uh, lost or something?"

he was a happy camper by the time i walked out though, $200 poorer :)

as i was picking out stuff i could see the realization dawn in his eyes... "whoa... dude... this old guy has... uhhh money or something!" as he loaded up my 3-foot two-hose blown-glass hookah, tongs, tray, extra stainless steel bowl, replacement gaskets, papers, charcoal, tobacco (gotta test it, ya know?), screens, etc into the padded over-the-shoulder deluxe hookah travel-pack (yes, really)...

as i turned around to leave, the dude calls out to me "whoa man, hold up... here, take this like, limited-edition collectable zig-zag cigarette case... on the house!"

me: "uhm... ok... thanks... why?"

dude: "'cause youre one cool old dude!"

sigh...