Day 3 Part II: Special K

Posted on January 14, 2009


This vacation is spiralling downhill. Today I spent the evening with my worryingly apathetic and depressed friend the Source, who the financial crisis fucked and who I can’t help. Where the hell are the personal bankruptcy laws of this country? Can someone direct me to them online? Because it sure kills a vacation to worry about a friend in a debtor’s prison.
We met up with a Kuwaiti friend of mine from high school and his two foreign friends. Conversation was strangely stilted. We sat around in one of the foreign friends’ apartments, with me wondering: what do people sit around and do here, without drink or drugs? Well, I only had to wait. Soon enough I realized that at least one of those people was off his face. Ketamine. Nice one, I thought. We took his high ass home and left the other two K heads to their own devices. Well, maybe if I lived here I’d take horse tranquilizer too.
Actually they were all quite pleasant, twitchiness notwithstanding. I finally found someone else who suffers from
restless legs syndrome and who gave testimony to support my own, how it keeps us up at night and shit. People – usually men – prefer not to believe that I have that but rather prefer to think that I am nervous around them. They can suck it.
When I got home I had a long and baffling talk (or rather, shout) with my dad based on the mad ideas, not previously indicated as being important, that I should stay in Egypt because it is my country and because the prospect of meeting a husband there is better. Like I care about “my country” anymore. And like there are any Christian guys left in Egypt…the good ones took off long ago. I have only ever fancied guys who did so, anyway. According to him, also, I may not enjoy working abroad. It was all very nonsensical, and so our shouting woke my mom up. When she couldn’t get back to sleep we had another chat about evil spirits – tonight’s topic was the spirit of lust, which she believes to have far more application than I do. I talked her out of all that though…it took like an hour. Then we talked about what we could do about my desperately unfortunate haircut and metres of dark brown roots. I considered this to be a good culmination to the day and went back to hide out in my sane room.
Witticism, where art thou? Probably thou art in thy bed. It is 4:40 am.