It’s no secret that Jared isn’t handling his quarter-life crisis well, but you had hoped it would take the form of excessive Snapchatting or a sudden obsession with juicing. Hell, maybe he’d even consider taking a yoga class together. But, no. Jared just kept buying hookahs. Here are the five hookahs your now-ex-boyfriend bought for reasons even he can’t articulate.
1. 4-Hose Purple Hookah Shisha Pipe ($32.47, Amazon)
It started simply enough. You came home one day and found this hookah on the living room floor. Huh, you thought to yourself. I guess we own a hookah now. And in that moment, it was sort of pleasant. You imagined having another couple over, showing them the hookah. It’s a great gateway to asking other couples if they know where to get weed, you thought to yourself. It seemed innocent enough. But it wasn’t at all. It was a golden two months of revelry before you came home and found…
2. The Octagon ($164.95, Mya Hookah)
This totally different hookah. “That’s okay,” you said aloud to yourself. “This is all okay.” It was a nicer hookah. It’s totally normal for your boyfriend to buy a luxury hookah. The couple with the luxury hookah, you thought to yourself, I can be that, right? And then came:
3. Patron XO Café Liquor Bottle Hookah ($95, Hookaholics.com)
Three hookahs. You guys now collectively own three hookahs. “What the fuck, Jared?” you asked him. He didn’t say anything. “Too many hookahs, Jared,” you elaborated. This amount of hookahs could only lead to…
4. Ciroc Batman Hookah ($95, Hookaholics.com)
The stupidest hookah ever conceived. A hookah that celebrates buying alcohol, playing flip cup, pre-gaming at stupid dorm parties, and your boyfriend and his friends lounging around like idiot kings. Visages of hookahs haunted your dreams, delicious rose-flavored demons tearing at your psyche. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, you walked into your room one night and found…
5. The Skull Hookah ($125, Etsy)
I can’t believe Jared would invite this kind of evil into the apartment, you thought to yourself. What an idiot. You have to get out of there. The hookah energy in the apartment is reaching critical mass. “Goodbye, Jared,” you want to tell him, but instead he offered you a toke of his bomb-ass new hookah.
Jared belongs to the hookahs now, to a cheap symbol of his fading youth, and he’s probably out there somewhere, still eyeing an ugly, overpriced hookah on eBay.
