Hookah Thief Shake Down
I was about midway through a bottle of Bowmore 20-year and brimming with the resulting vitality. I glanced at my watch and couldn’t decide if it was 11:47 or 11:42. Goddamn scotch-induced dyslexia. It was early skirt season and our house’s party was absolutely stacked that night. I stepped out onto my rowhouse’s front porch to spark a clove.
As I stood there smoking, I heard some commotion at the door behind me where a crowd had gathered. Suddenly a guy in a Hawaiian shirt pushed through the crowd and made a run for the stairs. Sensing some bullshit going down, I grabbed the guy by the collar and forced him down into an “indian style” seated position. As he stumbled backwards, he dropped his jacket off of the porch onto the concrete below. When the jacket hit the ground it curiously made the sound of glass shattering.
Still holding Hawaiian shirt guy by the collar, I stood him up and pushed him against the porch’s column. “What the f*ck was that sound?” I asked. He sure acted tough but I could tell he was a weak motherf*cker. He played stupid. I told him not to move.
I took a final drag off of my clove and walked down the steps to inspect. I unwrapped the jacket and found a shattered hookah inside; MY shattered hookah. The guy looked like he was going to bolt, so I ran back up the stairs and blocked his way, and then called three of my Bros outside. I had just finished watching the entire “Sopranos” series, so I figured I knew exactly what I had to do: It was time for a shake down.
Now with three guys behind me, and Hawaiian shirt huddled in the corner knowing he f*cked up, I explained to him that the hookah was unique and cost $180 (it was actually a shitty one that I’d bought at a liquor store for $60). I lit another clove, blew the smoke in his face and told him I wouldn’t call the police or kick his ass as long as he paid me for it, plus 10%, making it an even $200. He immediately agreed.
The three of us then walked him to an ATM a few blocks away and waited while he withdrew the cash. He handed me $220 and apologized again. I patted him on the cheek and told him to be more respectful next time before sending him on his way. We still had about 20 minutes until the liquor store closed, so we used the cash to buy ourselves a new hookah, four bottles of champagne, and four quad packs of Dogfish Head before heading back to the party, champions for the night.