Last night Francesca and I went to a going away party for Handsome George while Dave waited for Rebecca. We figured it would be a small little party but it turned out to be pretty big and pretty fun. There were a lot of people and plenty interesting conversation. We got invited back to the north coast and even asked to stay around after they kicked out everyone at 330am. It felt nice to be in the 'cool club'. It felt even nicer to eat all of their mangoes.
At around 5am we call it a night and head back to Garden City. Of course she was hungry and decided to order some food from a place we passed by on the street. If 2am is the 4th meal I guess this would be the 1st call to prayer meal? Anyway, since the fryers weren't up we had to settle, and by settle I mean that we ate potato chips in a pita. I would have complained it was too unhealthy and gross, but I was too busy washing it down with an orange soda.
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Handsome George sounds like a pleasant, urbane guy who runs a foundation that provides cheap vaccines or prosthetic limbs for ex-child soldiers or something and who is also an arms dealer who knows important people in the secret police. He has a going-away party and tells his friends he'll miss them when he's far away this time tomorrow. A week later, you spot someone who looks a lot like him in strange clothes in another part of town. He's talking to stern-looking men. They are standing around a truck with some implausibly innocuous bakery name painted on the side. You call out George's name and he starts to look toward you but then doesn't. When you call his name again and walk toward the group, one of the stern-looking men nods at another, much larger man you hadn't noticed before now, who is suddenly standing in front of you shaking his head with his arms crossed. You decide this may not be Handsome George after all, or that if it is, he's busy and will get in touch with you later if he needs to.
This blog is going really well.
hear any loud egyptian sex yet? the conditions appear to be right for it.