At a birthday dinner for my wife, I watched a dancer shake her thing and it was fantastic! She had an ankh tattooed in the middle of her back and the long curls of her black hair brushing against it.
"She's all hot and sweaty," said Scott, memorably.
At one point I was certain the women were dancing to Shams* which was sort of a bitter delight.
The food was good. The company was great. We didn't make it to the hookahs, but I am told the aroma was incredible even after steeping in other peoples' lungs.
I have more to say but it is almost 4 in the morning and I am doped up on decongestants and should probably go hallucinate on the ceiling.
*I learned of Shams via Juan Cole.
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