I said it was time for me to depart, to a chorus of groans. Youssef said he’d join me, and the group wished us all the best. We hadn’t seen the last of them, they promised. We laughed at their wit and bid them farewell.
“What a bunch of tools,” Youssef said as we threaded our way through the crowds.
“They’re good people you judgmental ape,” I replied, grabbing an ear of roast corn off the tray of a nearby vendor and leaving him a pound in its place. I tore into it like I was mad at it.
A cab was found and in short order, we were back at the houseboat. We made our way to the balcony and found a pleasant surprise- the gleaming shisha, freshly assembled and waiting only for a coal. Amm Attia came in with a basket of them a few moments later, his smile broad.
“Time to estebeh, time to wake up,” he told us conspiratorially as he placed the lit coals on its head. We laughed- an honest one this time- and asked him to join us.
“Heaven forbid, men,” he said as he held the hose out to Youssef.
“I’ve never touched the stuff. Nothing that impairs your mental state, that’s what God says. But please, don’t let me make you uncomfortable.”
Youssef took the hose and inhaled with a passion. The smoke that emerged wrapped around my face like a veil and I suppressed a cough. We thanked Amm Attia and he retired to his post outside. Soon enough we were giddy, giggling like schoolgirls at the patterns that appeared on the walls and dripped like slime to the floors, coating them in hexagons.