The Odds are Good, but the Goods are Odd

Ok so my last post was somber, so I thought I would follow it up with some bullshitty fluff for your reading entertainment.

I have been meeting so many men lately (Mashallah) that I'm beginning to wonder if I have something naughty written on my forehead.  Unfortunately, none of them are the retainable types.  We went to have coffee and there were 2 guys who literally waited an hour each, lurking about, waiting for me to go to them (as IF) to get their numbers someplace discreet. 

This brings me to another point.  Let me just pause my story to say this:  I'm not getting up from my comfortable, ass-warmed chair to go to you and get your phone number.  It isn't going to happen.  If dude wants my number, he'd better determine a creative, interesting, and perhaps even awe-inspiring way to give it to me.  IMPRESS me!

For example:  I invented the cake maneuver.  Dying to meet the guy but can't find a way to do it discreetly while he's sitting with his table full of friends?  Send him a piece of cake via a waiter with your phone number.  Bada Bing.

Of course, if you're in a mall where there is a Cartier or Tiffany's, he could always go to the store, buy something nice and put his phone number in the bag; either have a waiter deliver it or drop it off on the table and walk away. I am not opposed to this tactic in the least. Frickin impress me.  That's all I'm sayin.

I am not going to leave my girlfriends and get up to go take someone's number.  Why are these guys so lazy and lame?  They stood around for literally an hour trying to figure out how to give me their number.  It wasn't like everybody else in the restaurant didn't know what was going on.  Of course they did.  Why waste your time?  DO something.  Sigh.

And in other man-trouble.....  I mentioned that Bu Merdas was back on the scene, didn't I?  Oh yes, all full of nice words and bringing me groceries (please have him refer to the 5th paragraph above if you see him).  All very nice.  I forget.  I have a terrible memory. I forget when people upset me or say mean things or do things that are hurtful.  I wish I didn't, but in a way, I believe it is a blessing. (Then, The Romanian who has a photographic memory will vividly recount the offenses in accute detail.)  Anyhoo, I forgot what really bothers me about Bu Merdas:   every time he reels me in, he backs away. What is it - catch and release?  Then he blames it on me (also known as "flipping it".  Kuwaiti men love to flip it.  They make up a reason why it is YOUR fault instead of theirs.  Then, they baffle you with bullshit to the point that you are second-guessing yourself.). Yes yes, I remember now, it is all my fault.   I keep forgetting not to like him or respect him or to show him that I care!  Silly me.  I thought that's what you did when you were into someone.  My fault and now he has gone away again. Adieu, adieu, parting is such sweet sorry.  And here I was thinking that I was going to get some.

N - E - X - T

Okay, back to my story. (Hit "play".)  This weekend, I had several weird things happen.  First, I'm driving home with The Romanian and some guy in a Mercedes as big as a basketball court is making a sign at me like he wants to give me money. I ask him to pull over.  He thinks I'm a ho and got all smiley.  I let him have it.  'Do I LOOK like I need  your money?  Do you know how much my hair treatments alone cost?  Just because I'm not driving a Merc doesn't mean I'm going to jump into yours for money.'  Yada.  Boy, I felt good.  Then later at Casa DG, I'm checking my Desert Girl Facebook inbox and I see that some girl named "Eman" (which, correct me if I am wrong, I believe means "religiously pios")  writes to me and asks me if I want to make 2000KD a month.  Then she sends me 2 more follow-up e-mails almost immediately.  WTF. So I write back to her and ask her what the scoop is.  She says her Lebanese "boss" can help me if I'm "sexy".  WHAAAAAAAAAT?  She IS a ho.  What is WRONG with the Universe?  Where is the morality police when I need them?  So.... switch to later when I'm checking my online dating site and a relatively good-looking man asks me if I would like to "speak about urgent business," naturally I was thinking along the same lines as above and I let him have it with both barrels.  I mean I really gave it to him. Turns out dude really did legitimately want to talk about business with an American.   (Why would you go on a dating site to look for people to help you with military contacts???)  Anyhoo, I'm giving none of the above any more thought.

And what else happened on the weekend:

I had a looooovely lunch with The Man kids.  Only PrettyGirl talked.  She got the chatty gene.  They're such good kids.  I love them.   I like how when we have lunch or get together, people around us try to figure us out.  Am I their blonde mom?  How come the kids wear hejab and I don't?  Gee, maybe she's their teacher... tee hee.   So weird how my relationship with The Man blossomed into such a great relationship with his kids.  Who knew all those years ago?  Life is fassssscinating.

The Romanian and V (have to think of a better nickname for her) were out till the wee hours of the morning at parties.  I get to tired.  I'm going to have to take long naps to be able to keep up with them this coming weekend.  I need to go to the Kingdom of Kabd on Thursday, though, and I think my buddy is coming to visit me from Riyadh.  He's so crazy and I've missed him.  I have known him forever.  I haven't seen him since way before I moved here and we were both living in Virginia.  I used to go to his diwaniya.  (I'm always one of the guys.  Sad, but true.)