The night time is my favorite time to read a book...or stack animals.
My weapon of choice in this particular stack of sand in the Gulf, is none other than expatriates.com. This website is like the slutty little brother of Craigslist. It has a place for everything, but since English isn't exactly a first language around here it can get...hilarious.
Beds that come with their own wet spot
The country of Bahrain is very populated by expatriates, mostly from India and other gulf countries. This is very evident if you ever leave your house. I have no issue with Indians here, they have mostly been very kind and friendly, and their food is too good to have any ill feelings towards them, but they are everywhere! If you stop anywhere in this country and just look around, you'll see 6 cars being washed by a 7 Indians, (always seems to be one extra not doing anything), an Indian guy on a bicycle with a bucket, or a few Indians crossing the street in a creative spot. The street crossing here is something I can't decide if I admire or I hate. It seems people cross in packs as well, maybe for the same reason herd animals travel that way. That lion can't eat us all, right? Let's bring Vishnu along...he has a limp, that should buy us some time.
This wouldn't be a problem if you just learned how to ollie in your wheelchair, Vishnu.
But to the point at hand: I had a good day shopping yesterday. Not only did I find an item I had been searching for for a few weeks, but I happened to stumble across an item that I can't believe I have been forced to live without for all these years.
Let's start with the big item.
I got a bike!
Now while you catch your breath from the shock and awe of me finding a bike, lemme 'splain. People that I work with had their bikes shipped over, or bought them new. Not a problem, but I wasn't going to pay 200 dollars to ship a 60 dollar Wal-Mart special, so I figured I would get one here. I go to the store and they are like 110 BD for the cheap ones! Multiply by 3 and step off a few to get that in US Dollars. No chance. My fat ass won't get $300 out of a bike - I will be lucky to live out my years here with how I treat my body. It is a temple, but it is a temple that likes chicken nuggets and liquor on a regular basis. No way. So I decided I would just be patient and get one when it came up on the site.
And now we wait.
There were a lot of these:
1200 BD? For...a bike? Two wheels and a few pedals? That thing that will eventually just have flat tires and be covered in my laundry? No thanks.
And also a lot of these:
Wait...it is a bike for infants? And they out grew this bike in a year!? How big is your damn baby! Your poor vagina!
Just didn't seem to be any bikes that were for grown ups and in my price range. But yesterday, I found it. Red and glorious and 30 BD. More than I wanted to spend, but I had waited for a while and wanted it. A quick email exchange and the deal was struck. 25 BD and I would meet him at Ramez Mall, only a few minutes away. Perfect!
I get into my sweet 2000 Kia Sportage with 4WD decals, (add an extra 5 HP each) and off I go. I usually head out early because hate being late, and I wanted to hit the ATM. I pull into the mall, the winding way out-of-the-way entrance of which is a lovely little diversion in the the aluminum and toilet fixtures section of Riffa, over a "speed bump", (metal thrown in the road) and into the lot. The ATM is right out front, this will be easy!
Noooooooope.
And this line went on for another 20 people. The poor ATM must be worn raw and walking funny today.
Only one ATM in the whole mall, and it was Wednesday night ATM line night for the local Indian population. I have never seen anything like it. It was like Greg's sister from 8th grade was flashing guys her tits and you had never seen a boob before so you go over and there she was, but you were nervous and...and...wait what?
So this was a no-go. Lines were being cut and people coming in and out. Each person was both depositing and taking out money - I don't know why, you ask them - and it was taking forever. So I hustle back to my sweet 2000 Kia Sportage with 4WD decals, (add an extra 5 HP each) and I head over to the nearby Lulu. I know they have a Chase ATM in there and it NEVER crowded.
It was crowded.
Really crowded.
I park about a kilometer away and run in, just to find at that exact moment the Chase ATM crew opening up the thing. Okay, bad luck but I can wait. As long as they don't start talking to their friends who just happened to wander by.
Well shit.
Fifteen minutes later and they are done the 3 minute job. I run in and get my money and back I go to meet the guy. After finding him we have a conversation which could best be described as "what?" I was there to get a bike, yet he had no bike. I saw no bike. He didn't have bike one. The legendary Bikeless Tribe of East Africa had more bikes than this guy.
No problem, with much slow talking and him saying "okayokayokayokayokayokay no problem okayokayokayokay" we managed to sort out that I would follow him to his place, not far away. Easy.
Well, it was certainly not far away. It was about 300 feet away from the mall where we met. He could have walked the bike over or...oh I don't know...rode it. Instead I had to follow his gigantic SUV through the death lot, (it's like a parking lot but deadlier) to his house. I go in, the bike checks out, and boom! I have a bike.
I shall name thee, Carl the Bike.
But the real item I was keen to get my hands on was the collectible I found on the same site. This was the kind of item you know is meant to be yours the instant you lay eyes on the price. This would be something that I would keep with me through all of my travels. This...this was Stompy.
Oh hell yes.
After quickly recovering from my swoon I sent an email asking about Stompy, but I didn't want to let on how excited I was. She replied it would be best to talk on the phone so I called her. We both spent the next 5 minutes confusing each other while attempting to communicate in a meaningful way, but I got the gist that once her husband got home he would call me. Perfect! A bike and Stompy!
I would like to submit for your investigation the email exchange between myself and this nice lady.
Me: Is this still available? Would you take 8 BD for it? Thank you!
Maya: Its still availabl.8.500 is k?u plz call me on 3------1. Thank u.
Here I call her and we make out some kind of arrangement. It goes on:
Me: I will call you back this afternoon before 6 then. I am in Riffa, I would need directions where I can meet you - somewhere public would be best. Thank you for your time!
I am polite as fuck, by the way.
Maya: Yah fine.i will cal u aftr my husbnd reachd home.he wil meet u.u can come to him nd see the elephnt.thnk u
You're not imagining this. Maya, who barely speaks the language, can email like a 15 year old girl sending a text to her friend about how OMG Jstn Bbr is SO sxy LOL. Whatever, like, for real, though. I would have Stompy soon enough.
When I hadn't heard from her by 6 like she said, I sent an email.
Me: My number is 3------8. I can pick up the elephant either tomorrow or this weekend if that is easier.
Still polite as fuck. P as F.
Maya: Yah sure sir.actually we wil shift frm here aftr 1 week.i wil kept the collectbl piece until d comingmonday.thnk u.
Oh oka...wait what? So is it for sale? Why are we shifting? You mean this Monday? You want to keep it for another 2 days? Will life be empty without it? I must have Stompy!
I didn't know how to ask "Can I still buy it?" without sounding like an idiot, so I just went for it.
Me: Will I still be able to buy it? I will be here during Eid so any time next week works. Thank you.
P as F. And leads to one of my favorite replies ever.
Maya: Yez u can com anytim.3------9 is ma hubbys mob no.u plz cal to dat no.
Do me a favor and say that last part out loud.
Ma hubbys mob no u plz cal to dat no.
Sounds like I am auditioning for a one-liner alien cameo in a Star Trek fan fiction to be shown and not liked on YouTube.
It sounds like I don't know how to read things backwards, yet I am trying anyway.
And I love it.
And I will love Stompy as well, assuming I can cal hubbys tom at dat mob no.
No comments:
Post a Comment