nomad

Yesterday I was doing some work and I got a text from Ireland saying she was leaving a 1 year old's birthday party and coming to the merid, and did I want to meet her out? I agreed, and an hour later I was sitting in this british bar called the captain's table with two of her friends.

I didn't want to sit inside, so Ireland's friend L said "I'll find us a table outside". She left and came back in 5 minutes, not saying anything. An hour later this woman came in, wearing a really short leopard skirt, and told us we could have her table. I was like who was that and L said "oh, it's just a random". People from UK here are always talking to each other and being best friends even though the only thing they have in common is an accent. L calls them randoms. She had walked through all the outside tables until she heard a british accent, and then asked the people if we could have their table when they were done.

We went out to the table, and the people hadn't left yet. Much joking about us having to take the tab with the table. It was two older couples and a guy around my age, who decided to flirt with me. He's in construction, so I told him that I watch the cranes on the buildings going up on the island across from my hotel room. He looked at me and said "That's really stupid. Why don't you just watch tv?"

Then, as they were getting ready to leave after paying the bill, a guy at the table next to us, who was very inebriated, tripped and fell head first into a 3 foot concrete wall surrounding the patio we were sitting on. Ireland said "Oh bless!" There was blood everywhere. His friends tried to get him some ice, but the waiters told them to leave. Broken head guy stumbled off into the dark with a lot of blood pouring out of his nose and his forehead. His friends stayed at the table and kept drinking.

L was telling a bunch of stories about snogging. Ireland's other friend left to meet some guy. Catty conversation ensued about the girl who left. I was bored and watching for Macavity. He didn't come, but another cat did. These two prostitutes who were sitting on the aforementioned concrete wall with their, um, employer, picked up the cat and started trying to pet it. The cat was crying. I gave one of the prostitutes a packet of cat food and, seriously, she put it in her purse. I got mad and was like "dude, that prostitute is stealing food from the cat" and Ireland said "stop assuming she's going to eat it later".

Then one of the women from the party whose table we took came over and said "we're going to energy, come join us". I was like I really don't want to go to another bar, but then discovered that energy (actually NRG) is right next door to the captain's table. We joined the two couples and the construction guy. I'll just call him jug ears. Jug ears started telling me some scaffolding story but it was too hard to follow because he was drunk. When he found out how old I was he ignored me and started hitting on Ireland and L.

I turned to talk to the woman who had invited us over to NRG. Her name was Effy. She was definitely the piss queen, but so entertaining. She showed me some tattoos she had that were in places I really didn't need to see. Then she asked where I was from. I said "nowhere really" because the list was too long of where I've lived. She turned to her husband and said "Honey, guess what. This is a nomad." (though, it took me a few minutes to figure out she was saying "nomad")

Effy and her husband are well known here in Dhabi. They're super rich. Effy invited me to their summer house in Italy. I started talking to the husband of the other couple about skiing in Colorado (he goes to Aspen every year, and was leaving in a week for his trip). Effy got upset because she couldn't contribute to the conversation, so she patted me on the hand and said "but dear, you can go skiing at our summer cottage".

More brits came by the table. Effy was ordering champagne two bottles at a time. She would introduce me to who ever, and then said "And she's a nomad". She was smoking really skinny cigarettes and her makeup was kind of crazy. She kept pinching my cheeks and saying "You. Look. So. Healthy! I just want to pinch you!"

At some point there were about 20 people sitting at or milling around the table drinking free champagne. Effy decided, since we had every aspect of UK covered except for Scotland at our table, that I would have to be scottish. She taught me some expression which was apparently a very bad thing to say in scottish. Then she started introducing me to people as a scot. They would say "You don't have a scottish accent" and then Effy would say "that's because she's a nomad darling".

Like that explains everything.

Around 2 am I decided to leave because things were getting a little too insane, and there was now food involved. Effy's husband ordered food from somewhere and had them deliver it to our table. They were talking about going dancing after eating their snacks.

I got a text from Ireland at 1 pm today, saying she wished she had left when I did. She was just waking up.

Ah yes, to be old and responsible...

new expressions

Here in Abu Dhabi we've been making up our own expressions. Some of my favorites:

taking the number 11 bus - This was an invention of the Texas kid. It means walking (he says that legs look like the number 11). This expression is used to make fun of me because I walk everywhere. If someone offers me a ride, TK usually says "no, she's taking the number 11 bus". Then we both laugh, because no one knows what we're talking about.

pull my elbow - TK, again. It's an enhancement of sorts to the expression "pull my finger", which TK finds funny. You use this expression when you are about to dump a really crap job on someone, or when someone has dumped a crap job on you. For example:
me: TK, I need you to go to the printers and get a bunch of training material copied
TK: pull my elbow

posh totty - This is the invention of Ireland. It refers to the british women who hang out in bars dressed to the nines. You think they are going to be super classy, but then you start talking to them and they end up being trashy. Besides a person, a thing can be posh totty. For example, when M served us pink champagne, we said it was posh totty because pink champagne is trashy, yet expensive here

piss queen - This was mine, referring to the person who is the most inebriated at whatever social event we are attending.

divine cheese sandwich - At 530 one morning, as TK, Ireland and I were driving to Dubai for a customer engagement, we stopped at an Adnoc gas station to get food (the customer was in a remote location with no food nearby). I don't think eating gas station food is a good idea because it just seems gross. TK and Ireland got chicken sandwiches, and I got a cheese sandwich, which, on further inspection in the car, turned out to be white bread (like wonder bread) with one slice of orange processed cheese on it. And that's it (for the record, the sandwich only cost 60 cents). As I went off on a tirade about how disappointed I was, Ireland said "I'm sure it will be a divine cheese sandwich" which doesn't look that funny in print, but is very funny when said by someone with a thick Irish brogue. Now, we use the expression to describe situations or things:
Ireland: How was that white paper they gave you so you could figure out how that software integration is going to happen?
Me: It was a divine cheese sandwich (meaning, there was no useful information in the paper)

Paul - Once Ireland stayed with 3 of her friends in the Burg Al Arab. When you stay there, you get your own butler. Their butler was named Paul. They sent Paul off to do all sorts of silly errands for them. Now, when we want to send each other on joke errands, we'll call each other Paul:
TK: Paul, will you go make me some freshly squeezed orange juice without pips?
Me: Paul, my flip flops need a good scrubbing.

I know. We're having way too much fun here.

smurfs aren't sexy

I now understand why guys always get upset when women change their hair.

There I was yesterday, on the dreadmill, minding my own business, trying to avoid eye contact with the trainer. I kept seeing these white legs walking back and forth behind me in the mirror. I thought it might be someone upset that I way over extended my allotted time on the dreadmill.

But then suddenly, I was like I know those legs.

After I finished running I made my usual graceless exit off the tread, and came face to face with hot guy. I guess he was upset that I've ignored his presence for the past few weeks (I have other things to worry about these days) and he had been pacing behind me, trying to make eye contact. I was going to look at him and smile when suddenly I noticed his hair.

The nice grey with a few streaks of black had been transformed into what, under the fluorescent lights, looked like that weird coloring old ladies get when they are trying to make their grey hair more shiny.

I was like seriously, does hot guy have blue hair?

I should have looked at him, smiled, and thought to myself it doesn't matter what color your hair is honey. But all I could think is hot guy looks like a smurf.

Smurfs aren't sexy.