[ Continued from the last installment, on 11-8-01. No, I don't smoke pot, nor have I ever, although I'm not counting accidental second-hand inhalation from my college dorm mates. Don't do drugs, man! ]
"Welcome to mah crib," Jamal said as he threw wide the door. On his front stoop, Won the merchant and Saibara the blacksmith stood awkwardly, shuffling their feet and giving unsure glances at each other. "Shit, niggas, don't just stand there looking like dicks at a lesbo party, come in! Hell ya!"
Won and Saibara looked at each other once more before hesitantly stepping inside the Seaside Lodge, for the first time since Kai the sailor handed ownership of the establishment over to his brother from the city.
"It's, uh, different," was all Saibara could manage as he looked around the interior. His bushy white eyebrows had jumped several inches up his forehead, while Won'sjaw hung as he gaped openly at the new decorations. Jamal, grinning behind his sunglasses, reached over and closed his jaw with a clicking noise.
The place was a far cry from the Seaside Lodge that either guest remembered. Round tables with red-and-white checkered tablecloths used to fill the high-ceilinged room, while a countertop and bar ran parallel to the back wall. Wide windows with white cloth drapes were usually thrown wide open, allowing salty breezes from the ocean to comein from the ocean and make the curtains billow lazily. Tasteful watercolored paintings hung, framed, of mostly idyllic scenes from distant places in Kai's adventures.
"What the hell, sir, did you do to the place?" Won blinked, disbelieving his eyes.
Last summer, and the years before, the wooden-furnished interior of the Seaside Lodge was quiet and functional. Now, however, it looked more like some college student's dormitory room. Beaded curtains hung everywhere, as did sticks of incense in their holders. The fluorescent lighting was replaced with blacklights, and the jukebox now played reggae at a blaring level, which Jamal thankfully lowered for his guests.
"Check this shit out, homies," Jamal said, standing by a light switch. As soon as he flipped it, the prints of Bob Marley on the wall seemed to jump off their paper in garish neon colors as the blacklights kicked in. Won and Saibara gaped even more now, if that was possible.
Jamal bobbed his head in time with the beat of the jukebox music coming from one corner of the room. "Ya likes it,right? I did it myself. It's da shit, right?" Jamal grinned even more broadly now.
"It's shit, alright," Saibara muttered under his breath. He jumped as Jamal's hand came down in a hearty slap on his back.
"Hell yeah, nigga, know what I'm sayin'? But hell, man, I didn't invites ya two over here to check out mah decorashuns; I invited you to pop this herb virgin's cherry," he pointed at a terrified Won, "and to christen the new baby. Ya'll ready now?"
Saibara simply nodded, while Won shook in his bright yellow Chinese shirt, which was several sizes too big on him and seemed to come alive under the lavender glow of the black lights. Jamal lead them past a beaded curtain to a room that seemed even more offensive to the eyes, and stood next to a wooden shelf (also painted to glow under the black lights) where dozens of bongs stood.
"This here's my collection," he said. "With this shit, we can make a high nigga pie," he tittered, and gestured to his guests. "Damn, suckas, take a seat! I'll be right back to get the baby," he said, rubbing his hands with glee, and then disappeared behind another beaded curtain.
Saibara and Won shrugged and tried to lower themselves with as much dignity as possible into Jamal's bean bag chairs, which, like his bongs, were in random colors and shapes. "Oof," Saibara muttered.
"Please, sir, do you think this is a good idea?" Won withdrew a handkerchief from his robes and mopped his forehead. "I mean, we don't really know anything about this...grass of Jamal's, and the Doctor is still testing its validity. How sure are we that this grass will work?"
Saibara glowered at Won, although under his bushy mustache and eyebrows it was impossible to guess so. Besides, he was always like this. "It's called 'weed,' ya big flaming poofter, and I reserve all opinions about it till I try it out myself."
He thought for a moment, and added, "What's all this about popping yer cherry? What did he call you back there? 'Herb virgin,' was it? What's the meaning of that, you giant yellow dandy-boy?"
Before Won could respond, however, and much to Won's relief, Jamal entered the room. In his silk-covered hands, he held a giant red bong, roughly three and a half feet long. It was red and shiny, as though buffed many times lovingly, and was made of red glass. Inside, water sloshed around high inside the cylinder.
"Hell yeah, niggas. This here's the BluntMasta 3000, which Won got me. Thinks, homie!" Jamal lifted the giant bong towards Won in a small tribute, and set it down on the table before taking a seat on a bean bag.
"By the way, Jamal," Saibara said, watching Jamal pack some crushed and chopped marijuana into the smaller pipe that jutted out halfway up the length of the tube. "I was able to create more of these... bongs...in my workshop. Pretty soon, after some refinements, we can start mass producing them and selling them at the grocer, or at the Doctor's place."
Yeah? For real? Hell, that's great, man-- word is, Lillia's experimenting with this fine ass shit here, and a bong's just what she needs to fully appreciate the...wonderful aromas of this fine ass shit," Jamal said in an airy voice, then broke into laughter. "Heheheheheh, I said 'fine ass shit' twice in the same sentence!"
Saibara and Won glanced at each other warily.
Jamal started lighting the bong on the smaller pipe's mouth while taking deep inhalations from the wide lip of the cylinder above. "This is to get the fucking smoke started," he explained, noting his guests' perplexed looks. "You light up the smaller pipe down there," he pointed, "and when you inhale the shit, it pulls it in through the water, making it bubble and it purifies the shiznit. You breathe in the smoke, and it's aaallll gooood. Word, muthafucka! Yeah!"
Jamal grinned again before lowering his head over the massive lip of the bong, which nearly encircled his face. Already, white vapor, like an ethereal silk, wafted above the water, and Won and Saibara watched as it disappeared at the same time Jamal started making deep inhalations.
"Oh, heeelllllll yeah," Jamal breathed as he lifted his head again. His eyes were fluttering as though in ecstasy, then opened once more and focused on the two wary guests. With a wide grin on his face, he turned the lip of the bong towards Won, who alternated looking at it and looking at Jamal.
"Aaight, herb virgin," he said. "--It's your turn now."
[ to be continued ]
"Welcome to mah crib," Jamal said as he threw wide the door. On his front stoop, Won the merchant and Saibara the blacksmith stood awkwardly, shuffling their feet and giving unsure glances at each other. "Shit, niggas, don't just stand there looking like dicks at a lesbo party, come in! Hell ya!"
Won and Saibara looked at each other once more before hesitantly stepping inside the Seaside Lodge, for the first time since Kai the sailor handed ownership of the establishment over to his brother from the city.
"It's, uh, different," was all Saibara could manage as he looked around the interior. His bushy white eyebrows had jumped several inches up his forehead, while Won'sjaw hung as he gaped openly at the new decorations. Jamal, grinning behind his sunglasses, reached over and closed his jaw with a clicking noise.
The place was a far cry from the Seaside Lodge that either guest remembered. Round tables with red-and-white checkered tablecloths used to fill the high-ceilinged room, while a countertop and bar ran parallel to the back wall. Wide windows with white cloth drapes were usually thrown wide open, allowing salty breezes from the ocean to comein from the ocean and make the curtains billow lazily. Tasteful watercolored paintings hung, framed, of mostly idyllic scenes from distant places in Kai's adventures.
"What the hell, sir, did you do to the place?" Won blinked, disbelieving his eyes.
Last summer, and the years before, the wooden-furnished interior of the Seaside Lodge was quiet and functional. Now, however, it looked more like some college student's dormitory room. Beaded curtains hung everywhere, as did sticks of incense in their holders. The fluorescent lighting was replaced with blacklights, and the jukebox now played reggae at a blaring level, which Jamal thankfully lowered for his guests.
"Check this shit out, homies," Jamal said, standing by a light switch. As soon as he flipped it, the prints of Bob Marley on the wall seemed to jump off their paper in garish neon colors as the blacklights kicked in. Won and Saibara gaped even more now, if that was possible.
Jamal bobbed his head in time with the beat of the jukebox music coming from one corner of the room. "Ya likes it,right? I did it myself. It's da shit, right?" Jamal grinned even more broadly now.
"It's shit, alright," Saibara muttered under his breath. He jumped as Jamal's hand came down in a hearty slap on his back.
"Hell yeah, nigga, know what I'm sayin'? But hell, man, I didn't invites ya two over here to check out mah decorashuns; I invited you to pop this herb virgin's cherry," he pointed at a terrified Won, "and to christen the new baby. Ya'll ready now?"
Saibara simply nodded, while Won shook in his bright yellow Chinese shirt, which was several sizes too big on him and seemed to come alive under the lavender glow of the black lights. Jamal lead them past a beaded curtain to a room that seemed even more offensive to the eyes, and stood next to a wooden shelf (also painted to glow under the black lights) where dozens of bongs stood.
"This here's my collection," he said. "With this shit, we can make a high nigga pie," he tittered, and gestured to his guests. "Damn, suckas, take a seat! I'll be right back to get the baby," he said, rubbing his hands with glee, and then disappeared behind another beaded curtain.
Saibara and Won shrugged and tried to lower themselves with as much dignity as possible into Jamal's bean bag chairs, which, like his bongs, were in random colors and shapes. "Oof," Saibara muttered.
"Please, sir, do you think this is a good idea?" Won withdrew a handkerchief from his robes and mopped his forehead. "I mean, we don't really know anything about this...grass of Jamal's, and the Doctor is still testing its validity. How sure are we that this grass will work?"
Saibara glowered at Won, although under his bushy mustache and eyebrows it was impossible to guess so. Besides, he was always like this. "It's called 'weed,' ya big flaming poofter, and I reserve all opinions about it till I try it out myself."
He thought for a moment, and added, "What's all this about popping yer cherry? What did he call you back there? 'Herb virgin,' was it? What's the meaning of that, you giant yellow dandy-boy?"
Before Won could respond, however, and much to Won's relief, Jamal entered the room. In his silk-covered hands, he held a giant red bong, roughly three and a half feet long. It was red and shiny, as though buffed many times lovingly, and was made of red glass. Inside, water sloshed around high inside the cylinder.
"Hell yeah, niggas. This here's the BluntMasta 3000, which Won got me. Thinks, homie!" Jamal lifted the giant bong towards Won in a small tribute, and set it down on the table before taking a seat on a bean bag.
"By the way, Jamal," Saibara said, watching Jamal pack some crushed and chopped marijuana into the smaller pipe that jutted out halfway up the length of the tube. "I was able to create more of these... bongs...in my workshop. Pretty soon, after some refinements, we can start mass producing them and selling them at the grocer, or at the Doctor's place."
Yeah? For real? Hell, that's great, man-- word is, Lillia's experimenting with this fine ass shit here, and a bong's just what she needs to fully appreciate the...wonderful aromas of this fine ass shit," Jamal said in an airy voice, then broke into laughter. "Heheheheheh, I said 'fine ass shit' twice in the same sentence!"
Saibara and Won glanced at each other warily.
Jamal started lighting the bong on the smaller pipe's mouth while taking deep inhalations from the wide lip of the cylinder above. "This is to get the fucking smoke started," he explained, noting his guests' perplexed looks. "You light up the smaller pipe down there," he pointed, "and when you inhale the shit, it pulls it in through the water, making it bubble and it purifies the shiznit. You breathe in the smoke, and it's aaallll gooood. Word, muthafucka! Yeah!"
Jamal grinned again before lowering his head over the massive lip of the bong, which nearly encircled his face. Already, white vapor, like an ethereal silk, wafted above the water, and Won and Saibara watched as it disappeared at the same time Jamal started making deep inhalations.
"Oh, heeelllllll yeah," Jamal breathed as he lifted his head again. His eyes were fluttering as though in ecstasy, then opened once more and focused on the two wary guests. With a wide grin on his face, he turned the lip of the bong towards Won, who alternated looking at it and looking at Jamal.
"Aaight, herb virgin," he said. "--It's your turn now."
[ to be continued ]