Ahhnold the Bold

Posted on April 21, 2008

16


So it actually happened – unexpectedly, an “eligible” dude asked me out. Conveying this information to various friends and associates only led to repetitions of the question, “By eligible, you mean he’s Christian and has hair?”, a level of uniformity which has compelled me to conclude that I really need to get some new conversation topics.

I was unsure at first what the purpose of the requested meeting was – people sometimes ask to meet me because they want to tap me for legal information which I am generally woefully ill-equipped to give, and on the phone Ahhnold certainly did ask me if I know of any human rights lawyers for George Ishaq. The purpose of the assignment did not become clear in fact until much, much later in the date – until I asked if it was one, really.

So far the enterprise is a thoroughly entertaining one, at least for me and our mutual friends. Widely acknowledged to be the most disgusting and forthright person alive, I have clearly met my match. Here is a list of phrases he uses with astounding frequency – I have already remarked that they’re romance killers but this has only resulted in increased bombardment via many forms of communication media:

  • Kirsh (fat belly)
  • Bataat (armpits)
  • Ityaz (buttocks)
  • Bizaz (tits)
  • Beleela fil olla (milky pudding in a water jug…a reference to anal sex)
  • Sogo2 fil 7o2 (sausage in the hole – same)
  • Libaas (underpants – I’m fond of that one myself though)

These are by far, by far, the mildest – a veritable drop in the fetid bucket. My head consistently explodes with casually tossed verbal grenades. According to him he aspires to make me exclaim “Ya3! Wow! Shakhra! A7a! Zerebeiew!” Which sounds great to me.

And as for appellations for myself – “el 7elw” “el gameel” “brinceesa” “ ya sarookh” “el farrasa” and so forth have been bandied about. A wonderfully Egyptian cheesy soup, if you will. And he changes it up: “one sweet mama” has been deployed, as has “hot stuff” and “sandnegro sista”. I was also treated to being called “Franco” and “Mussolini” when I opined that the Sudanese refugees could not have just been left to live in the park, as he suggested was appropriate,

Me: It’s a health risk! You can’t just live in a park – that shit’s unsanitary. You could spread diseases pooing and pissing in a park. There are many diseases that can spread through poo, like cholera.

Ahhnold: Yes, but they were there for three months and there wasn’t any outbreak of disease in Mohandessin. Sebeehom ye2alato.

Me: Well, there’s also the public decency issue….the public sex?

Ahhnold: Seeby el nas teneek. I don’t think that should be illegal.

Me: People decide to make it illegal.

Ahhnold: Mashy ya 3am ya Mussolini. Fascist.

You get the picture. I’m not a fascist…I’m really quite foolishly liberal. I think prostitution should be legal, and marijuana, and a whole host of other stuff. But obviously an anarchist and a lawyer are going to have strongly divergent views on the rule of law…

Another new experience for me has been his inveterate lateness, which drives me crazy because I am almost always on time (a vestige of the Canada years). One time while waiting for him I extensively perused a silver shop, tried on copious items and eventually bought a ring and then had it shined and resized (I have unusually skinny fingers). Then I had a conversation about insurance options for jewelry shops with the proprietor, and then I waited 40 minutes after that until he arrived. In fairness, however, my cell phone text message inbox was full and so I did not get his message requesting confirmation of my departure time from work. I spent the 40 minutes I waited clearing out my cell phone inbox, naturally. Moreover, last weekend we were supposed to go to the movies on Thursday evening – at his behest, because I don’t like to go to movies – and we ended up meeting for lunch instead on Saturday afternoon. That’s how late. Flakier than pie crust. This is because he does not have an office job and so he works all night, which is nice when I can’t sleep and need someone to talk to on the phone at 3 am, but is otherwise unhelpful. This is the first time I have been presented with the novel situation of being unable to see someone because our waking hours do not correspond.

There’s also the vegetarianism….I ask you, can a person seriously be a vegetarian and be an Egyptian man? Nay, be a man? I have never heard of such a thing in a non-Hindu man, much less an atheist, and have decided to pin it on his Lebanese ancestry (because although they love them some meat, they are partial to fads). On the subject of meat, by the way, I have recently heard that like meat, lettuce is an inefficient use of water, since it takes large quantities of water to grow it and it confers little to no nutritional value, unlike meat. This information brought me much cheer, as I avoid lettuce whenever possible since I see it as an insult to human enjoyment and human pocketbooks. I don’t see why I am expected to chomp like an ungulate through something that brings me hardly anything while it sucks up precious water. I relish the prospect of one day telling someone (preferably a vegetarian), “Oh, I don’t eat lettuce. It’s bad for the environment!” and then leaning back in my chair with a smug smile.

Anyway, Ahhnold isn’t even a FUN vegetarian – he doesn’t like zucchinis or eggplants, beloved of herbivores everywhere – and of me. I find it difficult to be with someone whose nutritional habits I do not approve of and have dedicated considerable efforts in the past to compel boyfriends to consume things they do not wish to, but this is obviously a wasted errand here. My excellent mesa2a3a and pretty good wara2 3enab will just have to be scarfed by others.

It’s nice though. There is a lot to be said for being myself, which I often am not around others – although you wouldn’t think it from the volume of material that escapes my threadbare brain-mouth filter. I also appreciate a man who can text a girl about his (trifling) arrest by state security while complimenting the smell of her hair…that’s flirtation with STAHLE, as he would say.

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