Last weekend, my family came to town to celebrate the renowned national holiday that is "Jacqsays’ Day of Birth" and, inescapable to my recent college-grad roots, I took them to a place I couldn’t afford that given day of the week [ie: two days after my paycheck]. We ventured over to Avondale’s "The Brick" to embark on the road to breaking my diet. Three glasses of wine, spinach and artichoke dip [hell-oooo heaven] and a this-really-can’t-be-healthy-if-it’s-this-good steak salad later, we waddled our way back to the car. As we passed Avondale’s noteworthy boutiques and eateries, I made the [not so] wise decision to point out The Casbah, a stomping ground I have come to know and love over the past four and a half years here in Jacksonville.

It was then I was faced with one of life’s most daunting tasks; explaining a hookah bar to my parents.

And, in my ever-eloquent manner, defining it to my overly-conservative mother as a "legit pipe without the ... you know," wasn’t really selling her. I began to internally cringe at all of the VISA statements she had received over the years with the establishment’s name tacked to it. Hopefully it didn’t click, but if you know anything about my mother, you know that she forgets nothing. Ever.

But, despite my weak attempt to prove my innocence [because mom and dad now probably think that I hit this "questionable activity" nightly] and convince my 9-year-old little sister that I am not, in fact, a chain smoker, I fail to falter. My name is jacqsays, and I was at The Casbah last Friday night.

The Casbah is a place I will always go to when I need a beer, some hummus, or hell - scare my parents into disownment by partaking in a little hookah. Apart from the 56 flavors/combos that The Casbah offers it patrons, they have some of the best brew selection in town. For it is at The Casbah and The Casbah alone where I can enjoy a taste of my Canadian motherland via La Fin Du Monde. That’s what I’m talkin’ ab-oot!

Apart from the flow of La Fin, my normal circle of friends partake in kabobs, falafel and Baba Ghanouj. After all, it is a traditional Middle Eastern menu. The guys don’t mind the belly dancers either, who do their thing on Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays. I can’t do that thing. And I’ve tried. Scary.

Pick your poison - inside or outside seating, but don’t be surprised if there’s a wait Thursday, Friday or Saturday night. Take the line as a testament to the food and atmosphere. It’s well worth the wait.

So I guess I never really explained to my parents what a hookah bar is, defeating the purpose of the animated narrative, but hey, now you know a little bit about the folks. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll be seeing the whole family at The Casbah, hookah and all.