Smoky paradises

My grandmother smokes Marlboro Reds. She also makes great mashed potatoes. Regardless of our relation, I'm neither a smoker nor a cook. This being the case, I often feel slightly uncomfortable when I'm: \nA. Sitting in a smoky place, or \nB. Holding a wok. \nEven so, there are certain places that just aren't the same without that second-hand stench. Even when it is no longer acceptable to light up within a cubic hectare of potentially breathable oxygen molecules, even when it is illegal to injure both your lungs and liver at the same time, the following places will still have a hazy gray ambience that both smokers and non can enjoy. Here are the finest places in the bi-state area for your Philip Morris Phix:\n1. Bingo at the American Legion Tuesdays and Sundays, Bloomington.\nYou're lucky I'm even sharing this nugget with you. I'll be disappointed if the hardcore bingo scene becomes tainted with college-kid wannabes, so talk amongst yourselves and only go in small groups. Once there, you'll discover that bingo is not the slow-paced, old-folks game you think it is. Bingo has its own culture, and it is intense. You're juggling a minimum of five or six boards; you've got people trying to sell you bonus games; you've got ladies trading pull-tab lottery tickets for more lottery tickets and you best be sitting by an experienced player or you will be confused and embarrassed that you're still looking for I-27 when they're already calling N-32. You probably won't even recognize the geometric shape that will get you a bingo in this round, as the traditional lines and diagonals are rarely used. The stakes are high, the coffee is free and I kid you not, the American Legion on bingo day is the single smokiest place I have ever been in my life, bars included. \n2. Karaoke night at the Brown Bag, Louisville, Ky.\nEvery other day of the week this deli-slash-pub is your typical dive, but Friday nights when the Huntsman brothers set up karaoke, this smoky tavern comes alive. And no, it is not the same as you and your girlfriends screaming "I Love Rock 'n' Roll" in the back room of Bear's. When you hear Big Don Huntsman and daughter Melissa wail Meatloaf's "Paradise by the Dashboard Light," you'll realize all your previous karaoke experiences were just sad and sorry sing-a-longs. \n3. Aladdin Pita, Merrillville, Ind.\nIt's not the atmosphere that makes this little Middle Eastern restaurant a smoker's haven; it's the dessert menu. For $7, the server will bring you a shisha, which is a traditional hookah filled with cool water and flavored tobacco. It's terrific. If you're not really a smoker, like me, you might even get a little light-headed if you try it, which is entertaining for your smoking friends. During my experience, my loopy-self explained the entire "Babysitters Club" book series to the rest of the table. You know, "Claudia's an artist but doesn't do so well in school, Kristy's the only baby sitter who doesn't need a bra yet," ... that kind of thing. \nSo try the shisha, and the falafel too. \nThe thing about these enchanting places is that you can leave the anti-smoking talk to those teenage crusaders on TV and enjoy them for what they are. None of them necessarily owe their charm to the fact that they billow with toxic fumes, but attempting to dissociate it from them would deny these hangouts an obvious part of their identity. \nI, for one, will never be a smoker -- or a cook -- but I appreciate the cultures of both. If you love rock 'n' roll and cherry pie, they are two habits you just have to accept.