A little game called “Hey Hooka – How Much?”

hey hooker

 

Sometimes once you do something a few times it kind of loses its luster and tends not to be fun anymore – let me tell you about a little game that never happens with: Hey Hooka – how much? This isn’t Cranium people – you don’t just play it with anyone. It’s strategic and well-timed – like crop-dusting in the workplace. As is the case with most amazing inventions like Imodium AD and the shoe horn, this game popped into my head and I hit it out of the park one oppressively hot July day a few years back.

 

The first car I had with Air Conditioning

The first car I had with Air Conditioning

I was on the way to work and had the air conditioning cranked as far as it would go like Scotty giving it all she’s got with the Starship Enterprise. When I drive in hot weather (anything over 68 degrees) I have every vent in the car positioned towards my face with that delicious cold air blowing as hard as it can. On longer car rides, my face actually starts to get numb from the extended cold air rushing against it; my own personal form of botox. That’s also the reason that I have such soft cheeks that are as supple as a newborn’s buttocks. I know what you’re thinking and I don’t care; I will literally get gas every day if it rund out because of the constant ac usage and I don’t care if it goes to eight dollars a gallon. I will not ride in the car April through October without my air conditioning. Anyway, stop distracting me so that I can finish.

 

sweating

 

I had already sweat through one undershirt and dress shirt while walking the dog that morning and I was schvitzing like cottage cheese left outside at a picnic again. I was speeding as usual and cursing the hot weather when something caught my eye on the passenger side of the road…

 

I immediately threw that car into the far right lane and slowed to an ever-so-slight crawl as I rolled up on the crowded bus stop…I knew it was a huge risk to my health rolling down that passenger window in such extreme heat as it was close to a hundred degrees outside, but I chanced it once I saw her: one of my coworkers named Shalan. She was leaning against the bus stop pole in all her nine months pregnant glory; sweating like a Whore in church. If I had a sonogram machine in the car at that very moment, do you know what it would have showed? I’d have seen that tiny fetus wiping sweat off its little brow too as it was that hot!

 

This Hooker didn't take Shat from anyone!

This Hooker didn’t take Shat from anyone!

If there was absolutely one person in town more miserable than me at that moment, it was her. Like divine intervention the game took shape in my mind and before I knew it, I was shouting out the window: “Hey Hooka – How Much?” I was laughing hysterically as I rolled by like a snail looking at all the people looking around at who I could be yelling to. She was waving her arms and yelling something to me as I rolled up that window and waved back. As I sped away down the street giggling, I couldn’t help but pat myself on the back a little for creating such a great little game back there.

 

As I got to work, I immediately went to tell my friend Tsunami about how funny I am. Once I stopped laughing enough to repeat what happened, she wasn’t laughing and looked at me like I was crazy and said “You didn’t stop the car and offer her a ride? It’s a hundred degrees out and she’s waiting at a bus stop nine months pregnant!”

 

I thought for a moment “You know, it didn’t even occur to me to ask her – it all happened so fast…”

 

“You had time to slow the car down, pull over, roll down the window and then yell Hey Hooka – how much? Yet there wasn’t time to ask if she wanted a ride? Were you running late and couldn’t stop – What’s wrong with you?”

dunkin

 

“No, I wasn’t late at all. I actually went to Dunkin Donuts after it happened and almost told the guy at the drive thru about it because I was still laughing to myself about it.”

 

Guess who arrived about forty minutes later and didn’t think it was funny either? Some people are just sensitive I guess. She was telling everyone like I was the bad guy here. It’s not like she was in labor and I passed her…then I can see her being mad.

 

I did make it up to her a few months later when I saw her on a different street corner and slammed on the brakes to offer her a ride. How was I to know that she was standing in front of her house that time, but it was the thought that counts…I am going to reserve judgement and glaze over the fact that every time I saw her outside of work she was, literally, on a street corner. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

out window

A

nyway – I broke that game out again this past weekend. It had been far too long since playing it and like the groundhog, this is a game that knows when to poke its head up out of its hole. I was dropping my wife off for her mommy’s night out dinner with friends when we saw our crazy friend Ann walking downtown. Immediately, I went into stealth mode and the game started. I was beeping the horn repeatedly while I opened the window and shouted: “Hey Hooka – How much?” Shockingly, there was no response from her at all. Like Glen Close in Fatal Attraction “I won’t be ignored” so I turned that car around and sped back towards her.

 

I pulled the car right in back of where she was walking and screamed again. “Hey Hooka – How much?” while beeping the horn twice as much this time on the off chance that she’s hard of hearing and I had just never noticed it before? All of a sudden she whipped her head around to call me an asshole and laughed hysterically when she realized who it was.  She then got into the car and said that the first time she didn’t respond because she couldn’t tell who was being yelled at so she ignored it thinking that it was just some asshole. She also said that it sounded like a Hispanic guy yelling to her which I found to be the funniest part. My voice is pretty distinctive as you may have heard so to be mistaken for any accent at all is ridiculous – nonetheless Hispanic. Needless to say we laughed hysterically as we dropped them off to talk about what an imbecile my wife is married to over dinner.

 

Please feel free to start playing this game and share it with your friends. Consider it my gift to the world and use it wisely. And to our crazy friend Ann – you are a great sport and officially post-worthy!

 

 

 

 

Phoenix Schmeenix! It wasn’t breast trip I’ve ever been on!

In case you can’t read this, the car window says “A WHOLE LOTTA BREASTS UP AHEAD! Who doesn’t love Coachella?

I couldn’t even escape the lunatics at the hotel bar. All of a sudden this random guy sits down cheery as can be because he has had the best sales day of his career. Apparently, he’s a paint salesman and had sold 33,000 gallons that day. He didn’t get my joke when I asked if he had to lug each paint can door to door…and then he proceeded to tell me that he was “The right guy, selling the right paint, to the right people at the right time.” I busted out laughing at that and he got annoyed because I accidentally laughed in his face.  I said “‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh, I just thought you were kidding.” Apparently, the paint industry is very serious.  I couldn’t be that mean either because it was an airport property and there weren’t that many people in the bar. I had very limited conversation choices: it was either talk with him about paint in all it’s glory or talk to the 20ish girl tending bar who said she was trying to get something “heartfelt” for her boyfriend’s graduation at Walmart. She gave me a dirty look when I laughed out loud but I couldn’t tell if he was graduating from Walmart or what she thought might be “heartfelt” there anyway.

Start to finish, this was the worst trip I’ve ever been on. I started out almost knocking myself unconscious in the driveway when I hit my head with the trunk while trying to close it after loading luggage in which resulted in a big red gash on my forehead, I ended up delayed seven hours at various airports, getting bumped from two flights and missing a connecting flight, had a full-on anxiety attack because they didn’t send my luggage with the flight for some reason but still charged me to check the bag, then I found out that I was charged for two airline tickets instead of one and then they proceeded to tell me that it was my fault, the boxes with presentation giveaways for my clients that I had shipped to my hotel didn’t arrive on time, and did I mention the heat and the sweating?

 

That’s not even to talk about the old lady on the security line who was holding everything up because security had to come over. Apparently, she thought it was a good idea to bring two cans of tuna fish, a plastic squeeze bottle of mayonnaise, slices of bread, and a plastic knife in her carry-on bag. She was gonna make a little snack mid-flight. What is wrong with people that they think they can make stinky tuna sandwich on a plane? The stink alone is reason not to do it even if it was allowed – but seriously, where was she planning on draining that tuna? Why wouldn’t you make the sandwich before-hand?

After her I was at my gate (before the first delay and then de-planing) and the lady scanning the boarding passes had to call security on the guy in front of me. After being told his carry on bag was too big, he took all of his clothes out and carried them under his arm and abandoned the suitcase at her counter and tried to walk around her and board the plane with an armful of shirts, boxers, pants, and socks. She was yelling at him not to leave his bag there unattended and he tried to ignore her so she called security. I never did see him get on the plane, so who knows what happened to him after that…

Am I the only one who goes through the airport security line scanning the crowd to see who I would be friends with if we crashed onto an island like Oceanic 815 did on LOST? Obviously, I’m not looking for Kate, Hurley, or Jack, but I give the people a once-over and see who’s gonna be dead-weight if a boar comes charging at us, who’s most likely a fugitive, who has a drug problem…and It helps me realize that as crazy as I may be, there are quite a few more nuts than me!!!