Nights of the Inferno
While every queen and non-queen dilly-dallied by the azure waters of the North Coast, I was stranded in the inferno that is Cairo..
Left to my own means and in the company of the mad, deranged and the degenerates to quote Tennessee Williams, I was too oppressed by the heat and the traffic congestion to ever have the leisure to sit and write.
So I decided to write a string of vignettes, all almost taking place at night, the delirious Cairo night..
The Scenic Heartbreak or What Happened in Berlin Last October (1)
Sooner than anyone expected me Rica, and Engineer Shahira, were back on track and we were sitting together, planning our biggest, most gayest holiday yet.
Next stop Berlin and Amsterdam.
And while we shared x rated experiences and moments that reeked with intoxication and irresponsible alcoholism, I realized how much I missed Rica and I missed our moments all of us together, me, Rica and Engineer Shahira.
On one particular night, we all had to leave, due to important engagements the next day, and Engineer Shahira offered to give me a ride back home, and on the way, I discussed my foray into the Berlin dating scene and my little experience with my Bavarian Sauerkraut.
And while we talked about how hauntingly beautiful Berlin is/was, and the exquisite moments we experienced there, as outsiders and Auslaender, it hit me.
I never, once, talked with anyone about what happened in Berlin last October.
I satirized it in a post, made a few references, but the actual heartbreak, went unnoticed.
Cloaked in silence and complete hypographia.
As I finally started talking to Engineer Shahira about it, about how beautiful Berlin was, that I would sit by the Brandenburg Gate and cry, because I was so miserable, yet I was so moved by how scenic my surroundings were.
I could not be in a more beautiful place.
And the more I drank in my surroundings, the more I cried.
The Linden trees, the magnificent architecture, the little forets, springing out of nowhere, in the middle of the city.
I was awe-inspired, and I was terribly heartbroken.
I never fathomed how can anyone sustain, withhold, (contain?) two diametrically opposite emotions like this.
The wonder and the joy of regarding this scenic, sensory experience, and having to reconcile it with a bitter melancholic interiority..
I could have Sex with your Eyebrows or its Wrong to date a Bisexual (2)
So for the dry spell that has lasted for a decade now, it was no surprise that I was still hung up on my bisexual gentleman.
After he announced that he, as everyone in this scene, does not believe in same-sex relationships and would look forward someday for having a wife and a family, because his genes are so precious and should be passed to the next generation, in addition to the common argument of social norms and values of middle class respectability.
I thought this was the end of it.
I am vicious queen who likes her men gay.
Call me old fashioned, but my mama (not my biological one) always taught me never to trust a bisexual.
And I took her advice to heart.
But then, my bisexual gentleman would not take no for answer.
He pursued me like the plague, called me at all hours, and expressed his most sincere desire to "see me".
Now I am just simple girl who can't say no to such stunning pair of eyebrows.
Not to mention the gorgeous arms that go with it.
I let down my guard and agreed to see him a few times.
And I did enjoy myself, to an extent, it might have been the buzz from all the sexual tension permeating the air, but he was pleasant, when he was not too trivial and he was sure fine to look at.
I secretly smiled at his contrived show of masculinity and the awkwardness that went along with it.
But besides the amusement and the promise of sexual tension, I knew that sooner or later I will have to give him an old-tomato (ultimatum), either he gets serious or he gets out.
After all, it is wrong to date a bisexual man.
A Bootie Call or I am too Horny, I can have Sex with my Dog (3)
One particular gentleman, who possessed the typical sexual imaginaire of all Egyptian men had taken a liking of me.
He was not really a homosexual, he was not really a bisexual, he was omnisexual.
He would sleep with his dog if he was not brought up believing that animals are lower creatures.
We went on a date once, and he's actually cute, but he's constant talk about his ideal fantasy, me, him and another woman, or me, him and another man and a woman, put me off for about two years.
Then one day, he called me, and he talked about how much he misses me and would love to see me. He then asked if I was free that night and invited me over at his place.
I told my friend, who was sitting next to me, and she said, thats nice, and I told her, no sweetheart, thats not nice, thats a bootie call.
Thats a horny man, who is so desperate that he is flipping through his phone calling whoever is out there that wouldn't mind sleeping with him.
Now beggars are not choosers and I am not the kind of girl who turns down an "eager" gentleman.
Especially if he expressed his wishes in such a charming and sincere way.
But I had to let this one go!
I am not plan B and I don't do sloppy seconds.
I Chatted with a Gulfie and I liked it (4)
Keeping up with my tradition of I Kissed a Saudi and I liked it, I almost removed all restrictions, all reservations I had for Gulfie dudes.
My new policy was, if he's Gulfie and cute, go for it!
And after Kiki Sr. pressed me to no end to revamp my profile on the "gay Facebook" (she swore by it), I finally conceded after realizing how trashy mansham became.
True to Kiki Sr.'s prophecy, I came across a whole variety of "profiles" that I really liked.
One particular gentleman from an island in the Arabian gulf was exceptionally cute and sexy.
After drooling all over his profile, I sent him a desperate message to which he replied very graciously and gave me his email!
The next three days were an unabashed exchange of obscene sexual fantasies.
The boy knew his shit.
And once again the eccentric, morbid queen exceeded her own expectations and had it going with a Gulfie.
And it was sexy, it was fun, it was uninhibited.
As usual cyberspace offered one such licence, one would not dream of having in a parallel, more real dimension.
But all is not steamy and sexy, and soon it was revealed by chance that that particular gentleman is not satisfied by one "girl".
"Threesomes" were his thing, he said.
That was the end of it.
Two is company, three is crowd.
And while this fine specimen of cyber sexiness was a little irresistible, threesomes killed it for me.
However, I have to admit, the boy sure could "hold a conversation". Pun intended.
Left to my own means and in the company of the mad, deranged and the degenerates to quote Tennessee Williams, I was too oppressed by the heat and the traffic congestion to ever have the leisure to sit and write.
So I decided to write a string of vignettes, all almost taking place at night, the delirious Cairo night..
The Scenic Heartbreak or What Happened in Berlin Last October (1)
Sooner than anyone expected me Rica, and Engineer Shahira, were back on track and we were sitting together, planning our biggest, most gayest holiday yet.
Next stop Berlin and Amsterdam.
And while we shared x rated experiences and moments that reeked with intoxication and irresponsible alcoholism, I realized how much I missed Rica and I missed our moments all of us together, me, Rica and Engineer Shahira.
On one particular night, we all had to leave, due to important engagements the next day, and Engineer Shahira offered to give me a ride back home, and on the way, I discussed my foray into the Berlin dating scene and my little experience with my Bavarian Sauerkraut.
And while we talked about how hauntingly beautiful Berlin is/was, and the exquisite moments we experienced there, as outsiders and Auslaender, it hit me.
I never, once, talked with anyone about what happened in Berlin last October.
I satirized it in a post, made a few references, but the actual heartbreak, went unnoticed.
Cloaked in silence and complete hypographia.
As I finally started talking to Engineer Shahira about it, about how beautiful Berlin was, that I would sit by the Brandenburg Gate and cry, because I was so miserable, yet I was so moved by how scenic my surroundings were.
I could not be in a more beautiful place.
And the more I drank in my surroundings, the more I cried.
The Linden trees, the magnificent architecture, the little forets, springing out of nowhere, in the middle of the city.
I was awe-inspired, and I was terribly heartbroken.
I never fathomed how can anyone sustain, withhold, (contain?) two diametrically opposite emotions like this.
The wonder and the joy of regarding this scenic, sensory experience, and having to reconcile it with a bitter melancholic interiority..
I could have Sex with your Eyebrows or its Wrong to date a Bisexual (2)
So for the dry spell that has lasted for a decade now, it was no surprise that I was still hung up on my bisexual gentleman.
After he announced that he, as everyone in this scene, does not believe in same-sex relationships and would look forward someday for having a wife and a family, because his genes are so precious and should be passed to the next generation, in addition to the common argument of social norms and values of middle class respectability.
I thought this was the end of it.
I am vicious queen who likes her men gay.
Call me old fashioned, but my mama (not my biological one) always taught me never to trust a bisexual.
And I took her advice to heart.
But then, my bisexual gentleman would not take no for answer.
He pursued me like the plague, called me at all hours, and expressed his most sincere desire to "see me".
Now I am just simple girl who can't say no to such stunning pair of eyebrows.
Not to mention the gorgeous arms that go with it.
I let down my guard and agreed to see him a few times.
And I did enjoy myself, to an extent, it might have been the buzz from all the sexual tension permeating the air, but he was pleasant, when he was not too trivial and he was sure fine to look at.
I secretly smiled at his contrived show of masculinity and the awkwardness that went along with it.
But besides the amusement and the promise of sexual tension, I knew that sooner or later I will have to give him an old-tomato (ultimatum), either he gets serious or he gets out.
After all, it is wrong to date a bisexual man.
A Bootie Call or I am too Horny, I can have Sex with my Dog (3)
One particular gentleman, who possessed the typical sexual imaginaire of all Egyptian men had taken a liking of me.
He was not really a homosexual, he was not really a bisexual, he was omnisexual.
He would sleep with his dog if he was not brought up believing that animals are lower creatures.
We went on a date once, and he's actually cute, but he's constant talk about his ideal fantasy, me, him and another woman, or me, him and another man and a woman, put me off for about two years.
Then one day, he called me, and he talked about how much he misses me and would love to see me. He then asked if I was free that night and invited me over at his place.
I told my friend, who was sitting next to me, and she said, thats nice, and I told her, no sweetheart, thats not nice, thats a bootie call.
Thats a horny man, who is so desperate that he is flipping through his phone calling whoever is out there that wouldn't mind sleeping with him.
Now beggars are not choosers and I am not the kind of girl who turns down an "eager" gentleman.
Especially if he expressed his wishes in such a charming and sincere way.
But I had to let this one go!
I am not plan B and I don't do sloppy seconds.
I Chatted with a Gulfie and I liked it (4)
Keeping up with my tradition of I Kissed a Saudi and I liked it, I almost removed all restrictions, all reservations I had for Gulfie dudes.
My new policy was, if he's Gulfie and cute, go for it!
And after Kiki Sr. pressed me to no end to revamp my profile on the "gay Facebook" (she swore by it), I finally conceded after realizing how trashy mansham became.
True to Kiki Sr.'s prophecy, I came across a whole variety of "profiles" that I really liked.
One particular gentleman from an island in the Arabian gulf was exceptionally cute and sexy.
After drooling all over his profile, I sent him a desperate message to which he replied very graciously and gave me his email!
The next three days were an unabashed exchange of obscene sexual fantasies.
The boy knew his shit.
And once again the eccentric, morbid queen exceeded her own expectations and had it going with a Gulfie.
And it was sexy, it was fun, it was uninhibited.
As usual cyberspace offered one such licence, one would not dream of having in a parallel, more real dimension.
But all is not steamy and sexy, and soon it was revealed by chance that that particular gentleman is not satisfied by one "girl".
"Threesomes" were his thing, he said.
That was the end of it.
Two is company, three is crowd.
And while this fine specimen of cyber sexiness was a little irresistible, threesomes killed it for me.
However, I have to admit, the boy sure could "hold a conversation". Pun intended.
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