Stranger than Fiction

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In a day maybe she runs through a bottle of Jack Daniels. She has nothing much to do, she’s an entrepreneur and her business is doing quite well. She’s in the jewellery business, gold, it’s lucrative.
Her employees don’t like her drunk though – she’s not violent just thorough. You know how when you’re drunk and everyone around you is suspect? You can’t even trust the ATM machine. Half the time you’re willing to walk out of the car and open the gates because you think the gate man opens it funny. When she’s drunk she’s worse than a forensic accountant in a government department. It’s not hard to see why her employees don’t like this, it borders on annoying. 

For a first timer though she seems nice.  All the way in the UAE probably been their first time on a plane, she welcomes them with open hands and sometimes bare chested. Yes, it’s hot out there in the land of the crude. She walks around her premises with nothing on but a smile. At 50 something she looks 30. She has a well toned body which, at a glance, you can tell she does her squats and barbel lifts without fail. You find it strange, where you’re from clothes are the preserve of everyone. You don’t want to seem like a prude though so you smile and pretend it’s okay, after all she’s a sight for sore eyes. That first night you have the strangest food – some green veggies in a yoghurt sauce that tastes as weird as it sounds. Everyone else seems to be enjoying it so you put on a brave face and dig in. You wonder what happened to plain old rice and stew. Night falls and you understand why she’s always in the nude – it’s hot. The A/C is cranked up but you’ve sweated through half your clothes. You figure maybe a shower would help so you slip out of your clothes and get in.

She hears the water fall and rushes up the stairs. She wanted to tell you something before she sleeps. She doesn’t knock she just walks in and pulls the door open. You’re shocked for a moment and cover yourself – at least try to. She laughs at your attempt and asks you to pay her no mind.  You realize how the towel rack is far from the bath. She stares a little longer at your naked body, your chest and full breasts, your tummy, the curve of your hips how they extend to your glistening thighs and she lingers for a moment. She says you’re beautiful and it feels inappropriate so you awkwardly smile. She gets to her point and leaves. She doesn’t bother shutting the door and you don’t bother finishing the shower. You step out towel in hand scurrying into your room. She’s strange you think nut you haven’t even seen the half of it.

In bed you think about all the stories you’ve heard of girls out in the UAE. No one ever painted a rosy picture for you, they all wanted you to stay at home fearing for your life. You think about your friends and boyfriend who’s probably cuddling up next to someone else – ofcourse the promise to wait was a lie. Everyone knows once you leave coming back is a myth, the last time you went to a funeral up country you had he got cozy with a neighbor – men! You fall asleep for your first time in a foreign land.  You expect to dream different, you don’t. You don’t even realize where you are until you wake up to sweaty sheets and the strange smell of tahini sauce in the kitchen.  You get up and head into the shitter for a morning dump.  You don’t expect her to be up but she is and walks in right on you naked. Your pants are down and your bowels are moving but she sits right next to you and starts spinning tales. You’re embarrassed for the both of you as you let one rip and she smiles – it’s all too weird.  She encourages you to let it all out but you can’t. You’ve literally been frozen shitless. She notices your discomfort and leaves – unwillingly. You’ve heard of culture shock but this, this is new. You get out and walk back into your room and see her in hers with the doors open doing her squats in the nude and you admit she’s got the best ass you’ve seen before shutting your door and your mind at such a perverse thought.  She can’t win you say to yourself, she can’t.

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