Clink! Ca-clink-clink...clink-clink-clink...ink-ink… All the hairs on the back of my neck are standing on end. Wide eyes are staring all around me. Is all hell about to break loose? It’s just a glass smoking pipe, what’s the big deal? And, maybe it’s even okay. It is a very thick glass pipe. Why not have carpeted floors? If broken glass pipes are the end of the world, then why not carpet? Save yourself a massive headache versus listening nervously for the breaking sound of a glass pipe bouncing endlessly across a marble floor. It’s a nice floor though.
I shook my head from the emotional bubble of listening to my own smoking pipe bounce across my own marble tiled floor. Deep breath in through the nose, slowly back out through the mouth. “It’s okay, it’s okay!” I hear myself saying. I begin to search for my bowl with all of its nice soft colors. I see the sheepish look on the dude’s face that allowed it to fall to the floor. What an ass! “It’s okay,” I say to him with a disingenuous smile. “Accidents happen.” Someone should teach this guy how to smoke a one hitter, I think. A cheap one.
I find my unique glass pipe under the dining room table. While music plays throughout my home, the uncomfortable silence of my party attendees feels palpable. Cleaning a glass pipe is very important and I have scraped my handpipe endlessly. Still, a thick black coat of resin covered the inside of the bowl. No ash though, so I would need to clean that up too. Miraculously though, my thick glass pipe had survived the fall. “It’s fine,” I announce over the music. “I’ve had this pipe for years now and it is the most durable pipe I have ever owned.”
I could see and hear some people sighing with relief. Others are laughing and shaking their heads at the reaction of everyone in the room, or because they have been in this very same situation themselves in the past. I hop up onto the back of my couch continuing to inspect the artisan glass smoking pipe that I had become very attached to over the last few years. If I care about it so much I don’t know why I continue enjoying smoke sessions with my friends with it. Then again, it is just a glass pipe. Right?
I see my friend Bethany walking over to me. Her wine glass dangles elegantly in between her index and middle fingers. “Do you remember when Chris gave you that pipe?” I look up at her with a wry smile. She knows I remember. “He dropped it from over his second floor balcony and you just barely caught it!” Bethany starts to laugh hysterically over the memory. My smile widens further over thinking about Chris yelling my name and then looking up just in time to see this pink, green and blue piece of glass come plummeting to the floor. I kept it from hitting the floor but then fumbled it and almost dropped it anyways. I distinctly remember the feeling of carpet under my feet though.
I thrust my unique glass pipe back in my pocket so I could rejoin my guests. A few glasses of wine later and I am feeling a little tipsy. Speaking with the lingering group of close friends that have stuck around for late night and not watching where I am going, I almost stepped on my cat. Not almost, I did step directly on her tail. She yowls, I stumble and hit the floor. My glass of wine shatters and I hear a hard crack in my pocket. I sit up to see all of my friends once again staring at me with open mouths. I reach into my pocket, and sure enough, it happened. I pull out my smashed cell phone. The screen has shattered into a hundred different fragments. $600 gone in the blink of an eye. My durable glass pipe on the other hand, just fine.