Smokin' Salon

She also made no qualms about seating people at tables with unfamiliar faces. "You guys should get along," she said, motioning a group of newcomers to pull up chairs to an already-occupied table. "Let me know if you don't. No brawls." The two groups exchanged awkward smiles as they sat down together. Though as soon as the couple making out in the back corner left, the second group was up and scrambling to claim the abandoned table.

A pair of chicks — one in a short black skirt, the other in a white poplin dress shirt — sauntered in, and with no waitstaff to be found, they took seats at a high table opposite two complete strangers. Jessica, one of the table's original occupants, was curvy, kinky-haired, and dressed too neatly for the joint. She conceded that it was her first time here and though initially surprised by "random people" sitting down with her, she enjoyed her mango-flavored hookah and met some cool new girls. But seriously, if you're sharing spit with people, you might as well suck it up and share tables too.

Hookah: The menu has at least 40 hookah flavors, and, as Scott did, you can get blends — up to nine flavors mixed together. A single hookah is $12, a double $18, a triple $23. Surprising was the fact that each additional charcoal (a quantity of the fuel that heats the hookah) cost $5 on a single, $7 on a double, $9 for a triple.

We decided on "California Dream," which consisted of pineapple, orange, and cherry flavors. The charcoal glowed from the top. We took turns taking long drags. The water in the glass base bubbled quickly as the inside clouded. I found the initial mouth-to-hose contact disgusting, but I enjoyed the flavor and the thick blasts of smoke I was able to puff dragon-style.

Later, I noticed that a group of kids near us had plastic mouth covers — but couldn't figure out how to fit them onto the mouthpiece of their hookah. "Why didn't we get those?" I hissed. My companion just rolled his eyes and blew a machine-gun stream of perfect smoke rings at me. One of the kids, a thick guy with dark, curly hair, finally called the waitress over and sheepishly explained their dilemma. With ease, she popped the plastic into place for him.

"I told you guys it went on that way," he snapped to his friends.

"Ha, yeah, just like a condom," one of them smirked.

Though hookah gave me a head rush that made me wobble on the walk to the car, I couldn't help but brush my teeth for an extra-long time with my sanitized toothbrush that night. The Funky Buddha is a great place to chill, but next time I feel the need to inhale candy-flavored smoke, I'll just hang with the good buddy of mine who owns a hookah and with whom I'm not afraid to share spittle. At least he doesn't charge me for using additional charcoals.