Thursday, August 12, 2004
pass the hookah
tuesday i postponed the trip to see QB1. she threatened to "beat me down" if i did it again. i woke up yesterday morning in just enough time to see morning change to noon. groggy from lack of sleep and an odd dullness in my head, i stumbled to the shower where i considered taking that beating since the water was doing little to wash away the fog. driving a little over an hour in the pissing rain in the condition i was in was less than appealing. however after my shower, a diet coke, and an hour of staring blankly at nothing, i decided that the drive might be good for me and aren't i glad i did.
the drive itself was rather uneventful. it did rain quite heavily in a few spots but nothing that required a speed less than 50mph. the radio gods were on my side the entire trip and i managed not to run over the bush that was residing in the middle of the highway. that's right a bush in the highway. of course as i passed it i realized it wasn't so much a bush as a collection of vegetation piled onto a trailer. the old man, that owned the trailer and the truck it was attached to, had had an epiphany. the type that had him outside the vehicle pondering the awesomeness of thought that had just occurred to him. oblivious that he had completely blocked the northbound lane. arkansans...sheesh.
i arrived at QB1's house a little after 3. she gave me the grand tour. we shared photographic highlights of the last 10 years of our lives. bottles of smirnoff ice were consumed over a yearbook and discussion of old classmates. dinner plans were made then changed with a phone call from her husband, mr. QB1, then changed again as we were driving to the nearest starbucks. the last plan stuck and QB1 and i went to procure a table at the restaurant she couldn't remember the name of as she'd never actually eaten there herself.
Garbanzo's hostess that evening was, well...earthy. as she was about to lead us away from the front door to a table somewhere beyond view, QB1 remembered that we were suppose to sit in the bar area (AKA the hookah lounge) as recommended by her friend that had eaten there. we were instructed to walk back outside and enter the next door on out left. so out the door and through the other we went. the center table QB1 had been told about was taken but the tile table with large throw pillows for chairs wasn't. eat on the floor? there was only a moment's hesitation as we considered mr. QB1 and his 6'7" frame before we plopped down on the cushions and made ourselves at home. the menu is middle easternish. we discussed how we should order prior to mr. QB1's arrival...several plates of tapas instead of entrees. when in doubt, sample...sample...sample. QB1 ordered for us a feast of hummus, olives, peppers, stuffed grape leaves , falafel or hushpuppies with a little grass mixed in as mr. QB1 called them, mango curry chicken on slices of french bread, musaqa, and a spinach salad with nectarines, mango, toasted almonds, covered in a blackberry vinaigrette.
mr. QB1 arrived shortly before the food and what a delight he is. he didn't complain about having to sit on the floor...well not much. there were a couple comments about his ass going numb but they were more for laughs than actual complaints. (i like him much more than the troll she married first.) he sampled everything on the table at least once and kept the conversation interesting with his comments on the food, the black spot on the bottom of QB1's shoe (dog poo or tar...never did figure it out), and his version of how they met...over a g-string and a few singles.
the grand finale of our dining experience: the hookah. my pothead friends would have thought they had died and gone to heaven...although the hookah master assured us that it was not worth your while to smoke weed from the hookah. how'd he know that? he's a hookah master. he's required to do research. duh.
after dinner we popped into the german place downstairs where they serve dark yummy beer. not quite like my irish guinness...but close. the bartender was a lovely little man. entertained us with tales of his friends home brewing experiences. if you end up in the neighborhood, definitely drop in.
the next stop on last night's tour...well...it was interesting if nothing else. lucky's (as in lucky if you make it out without paramedic assistance)is nothing short of a redneck karoke bar. the sights i saw and the sounds i heard can not be accurately depicted in words. i went to my car for my camera only to find there was no film. (damn me for not charging the battery of the digital.) so you're off the hook. just know it was entertaining in a torturous sort of way.
woke up this morning before 6am...go figure that one. checked to make sure i still had all my teeth and had QB1 drop me off at my car on her way to yoga.
dead penguin. ¶ 12:04 PM
the drive itself was rather uneventful. it did rain quite heavily in a few spots but nothing that required a speed less than 50mph. the radio gods were on my side the entire trip and i managed not to run over the bush that was residing in the middle of the highway. that's right a bush in the highway. of course as i passed it i realized it wasn't so much a bush as a collection of vegetation piled onto a trailer. the old man, that owned the trailer and the truck it was attached to, had had an epiphany. the type that had him outside the vehicle pondering the awesomeness of thought that had just occurred to him. oblivious that he had completely blocked the northbound lane. arkansans...sheesh.
i arrived at QB1's house a little after 3. she gave me the grand tour. we shared photographic highlights of the last 10 years of our lives. bottles of smirnoff ice were consumed over a yearbook and discussion of old classmates. dinner plans were made then changed with a phone call from her husband, mr. QB1, then changed again as we were driving to the nearest starbucks. the last plan stuck and QB1 and i went to procure a table at the restaurant she couldn't remember the name of as she'd never actually eaten there herself.
Garbanzo's hostess that evening was, well...earthy. as she was about to lead us away from the front door to a table somewhere beyond view, QB1 remembered that we were suppose to sit in the bar area (AKA the hookah lounge) as recommended by her friend that had eaten there. we were instructed to walk back outside and enter the next door on out left. so out the door and through the other we went. the center table QB1 had been told about was taken but the tile table with large throw pillows for chairs wasn't. eat on the floor? there was only a moment's hesitation as we considered mr. QB1 and his 6'7" frame before we plopped down on the cushions and made ourselves at home. the menu is middle easternish. we discussed how we should order prior to mr. QB1's arrival...several plates of tapas instead of entrees. when in doubt, sample...sample...sample. QB1 ordered for us a feast of hummus, olives, peppers, stuffed grape leaves , falafel or hushpuppies with a little grass mixed in as mr. QB1 called them, mango curry chicken on slices of french bread, musaqa, and a spinach salad with nectarines, mango, toasted almonds, covered in a blackberry vinaigrette.
mr. QB1 arrived shortly before the food and what a delight he is. he didn't complain about having to sit on the floor...well not much. there were a couple comments about his ass going numb but they were more for laughs than actual complaints. (i like him much more than the troll she married first.) he sampled everything on the table at least once and kept the conversation interesting with his comments on the food, the black spot on the bottom of QB1's shoe (dog poo or tar...never did figure it out), and his version of how they met...over a g-string and a few singles.
the grand finale of our dining experience: the hookah. my pothead friends would have thought they had died and gone to heaven...although the hookah master assured us that it was not worth your while to smoke weed from the hookah. how'd he know that? he's a hookah master. he's required to do research. duh.
after dinner we popped into the german place downstairs where they serve dark yummy beer. not quite like my irish guinness...but close. the bartender was a lovely little man. entertained us with tales of his friends home brewing experiences. if you end up in the neighborhood, definitely drop in.
the next stop on last night's tour...well...it was interesting if nothing else. lucky's (as in lucky if you make it out without paramedic assistance)is nothing short of a redneck karoke bar. the sights i saw and the sounds i heard can not be accurately depicted in words. i went to my car for my camera only to find there was no film. (damn me for not charging the battery of the digital.) so you're off the hook. just know it was entertaining in a torturous sort of way.
woke up this morning before 6am...go figure that one. checked to make sure i still had all my teeth and had QB1 drop me off at my car on her way to yoga.
dead penguin. ¶ 12:04 PM
