- George Burns
Friends and Family,
I finally found a barber. And the best news is that he’s right here on the compound. Yes, he might be a little … happy, but he speaks English and knows how to use a razor. Of course he didn’t have to touch the top because Achmed the Butcher made me look like day 2 at bootcamp last week.
When he was done, it looked a lot better and he only charged 25 SAR which is all of about $6. He even used the straight razor which is awesome unless you are in some gangster movie but if not, you get a really close shave at the bottom. Now I don’t look like I got in a fight with a bale of cotton and got it stuck on the sides and back.
He asked me if I wanted to make an appointment for next week and at first I deferred because I thought I’d just walk in but when my Lieutenant tried to step up after me, it turns out he was full for the rest of the day. And the week.
So being smarter than the average bear, I decided to make an appointment for next week which will turn into a reoccurring appointment. I love routine even though that’s discouraged here in most respects. But at least I can get a decent haircut once a week now for next to nothing. One less thing to worry about unless the barber picks up an Italian accent.
The super came knocking again and had the electrician with him. They fixed the half dozen minor repairs in the house and even fixed some I didn’t know about like cracked light covers. Other than the guy smelling like he just came out of the bowels of a boat full of pig-shit, I was happy to have my villa fixed up, especially if I didn’t have to do the fixing. They always take off their shoes before they come in, as though the disgusting, sweaty socks are better than whatever was on the bottom of their shoes.
That reminds me, I need rugs. Where would I … wait, I’m in Saudi Arabia. You think …… yeah, standby for the rug blog coming soon. But how will I keep them from floating away? I’ll have to put something heavy on them.
Tonight, Mike and I decided to go to the grocery store because eventually, the Brits are going to get tired of feeding us and we figured we should get some food so we don’t, you know, starve.
We timed it so that we would get in the doors right before prayer. They pray 5 times a day here and when they do, everything stops. Shops close. Some shops kick you out for the 20 minutes it takes and others, like the Giant grocery store we were in, lets you shop but you can’t check out or get any help while prayer is going on.
So it’s a good time to shop unless you mind the loud praying undulations they crank over the loudspeakers. I probably shouldn’t have danced and joined along with a P. Ditty rap.
This grocery trip was much more successful than the last one. I base this on the following list of facts:
- I found 4 cans of Welch’s Grape soda. Not 5, not 3, but 4 so I bought them all.
- I found two bottles of Gatorade. Only two, so now they have none on the shelf
- Three words: Rice Krispy Treats
- Not “Frosted Flakes” but “Frosties” which, I later discovered, is the British version. I’m eating British version American cereal in Saudi Arabia.
- For the love of all that is sacred, they have Mars bars. They no longer make them for the States but they have them here. I might just shed a tear…
- I rekindled my love for cherry Jello-O and fruit cocktail which I haven’t made since I was a kid. It was early in the trip and I got a little froggy with my choices.
- I gnashed my teeth over getting a toiletry set because I needed a toothbrush holder, not the entire 5-piece set. Until I discovered it was like $3. I’m such a tight ass.
- They sell hamburger by the kilo so naturally I ordered two, forgetting a kilo was 2 lbs. So, yeah, I have 4 lbs of beef.
- I got teabags (like real tea, people) to make sun tea which, apparently, no one has ever heard of before. You put teabags in water and set it in the sun. I can’t explain it but it’s good.
- I succumbed to getting oil so I could fry up some potatoes and I justified it because last time I bought chicken nuggets that I didn’t realize were NOT microwavable. You had to fry them. So that toilet-paper thin reasoning got me through.
Tangent: we get free paper products in our house. But they are of such a bad quality, it’s really sad. The toilet paper is like ½ ply and you can SEE through it. One use and half the roll is gone. I thought that government issue was bad but this stuff is like a softer version of crete paper.
Tangent complete.
The store was kind of like a Wal-Mart with food and other assorted goods. But the aisles made no sense and you would find yourself in a food aisle and further down, house wares. And while the selection was better, I still find myself sending email to my wife like:
Subj: Speed Stick
Can you send some? They apparently never heard of such craziness.
So after about $80 worth of hard decision making (I still look like a lost puppy wandering the aisles, confused by stuff like bouillon. I need for that something, right? Right?), Mike and I made our way home where I took another hour putting them away and throwing away yet another huge bagful of Roomie’s crap, this time from the fridge. There was stuff in there that should only be mentioned in congressional testimony.
Mike and I came up with a plan: since it’s damn near impossible to cook for one, we are going to share the responsibility and take turns each night. We are both in the same boat. Well, same ocean, different boats.
His boat is that he’s a single 25-year old who never cooked for himself before tonight.
My boat is that I’ve been married for 20 years to someone who has cooked most of my food (and by “most” I mean “all.”)
So we are both going to sail into unchartered territory (to maintain the nautical theme).
To show you where we are starting, he volunteered to make tacos and his first question was “do I need to grease the pan when I cook the hamburger?”
Now if I would have said “Yeah, I think so…” then we would have been in trouble.
When he was done, he called me over and I walked over to his villa to see he had everything set up: plates, silverware, etc. I brought some tea but then I discovered he had no lettuce so it was back to my place to get the $4 head of lettuce I had to buy. He was going to go with chopped bell peppers so after gagging while slapping the bejesus out of him, I chopped the lettuce which he didn’t touch.
I made up my tacos (without tomatoes because I wasn’t about to walk home again) and damn it if it wasn’t a really good taco. It tasted wonderful and I found myself at a dinner table with Mike, eating and talking. Before I knew it, I had downed 5 tacos and two bottles of tea.
Maybe life here is not going to be so bad.
FML for Today: “Today, I was giving a belly scratch to a stranger's dog, and I saw what I thought was a tumor. I touched it, only to find out that it was in fact the dog's nuts, not an abnormal growth. My first trip to second base involved groping a Corgi in public. FML”
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