Her Ladyship

Notes from the gutter.

Thursday, March 24, 2005

Unclear on the concept

Last night, I met up with my friend La Bomba for a few quick drinks at Chi-Cha's, this restaurant/bar near my house that has a very cool vibe. It's one of those places with all mismatched couches, is lit up entirely by red lanterns (I actually fear for the employees' eyesight - that can't be good for them), and, Sunday through Wednesday, has a live trio playing bossa nova or Gipsy King covers in the corner. The owners are Peruvian, so they have some tasty tapas.

Even better is that they offer shisha, or fruit-flavored tobacco pipes. However, I think they're rather unclear on the concept of sanitation. Always, always, ALWAYS you are offered a plastic mouthpiece to put over the pipe, as it's passed from person to person, table to table. When I was in Syria, they used plastic mouthpieces religiously, and they should know.

Yet every time I go to Chi-cha's, I have to go through this huge song and dance routine to get my own mouthpiece, and last night was no different. I take it back - it was worse than usual. Often, the server will roll her eyes at my request for my own mouthpiece, as if that three-cent piece was going to come right out of her pocket. Last night they weren't giving mouthpieces out to *anyone*. According to the server, these pipes being passed all around were still sanitary. How exactly? Were they boiling them in bleach for fifteen minutes between each use? Because if not, HELL NO was I going to use one.

In fact, La Bomba made friends with the guys at the next table (she stole my imaginary boyfriend in the process, but there are other fish in the sea). When they left, the brought over what was left of their shisha for us to use. Nice gesture, but not for love or money would I put my mouth on that pipe (dirty! hee).


  • At 3:50 AM, Anonymous Z-Ditty said…

    I would say we should call the health department on them, but I love that damn place too much!

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