Mia: Shaken Not Stirred
Brand Spankin'Miss Beverly Rides Again
I Hate My Dreams
Ritardo This Is For You…
Bitch Slapped By Life
Fate Has A Twisted Sense of Humor
Way To Go Bruno!
Time For Me To Fly
The Thing On The Floor
Book Lovin' Blogs
The Good, The Bad
The Not Too Cute Archives
I dig the writing so much
I'd read their grocery lists
Blogs Me Likey!
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 License.
Wednesday, May 06, 2009And You Will Always Be My Bitch
For months we’d been inseparable. Our friendship had been forged with pre-dawn conversations, desert romps, and more booze than my liver cared to recall. Prone to laughing at my antics he encouraged them no matter how much his older brother, my Aunt Nora’s husband scowled. Attend an official city hall function hung over and rocking outrageously loud pajama pants? Of course you should he’d responded equally hung over as he handed me a pair of colorful socks.
He introduced me to hookahs and hashish and I introduced him to alternative rock and salsa dancing. He held out his hand for one of my CD’s, “Give to me the crazy music Mia” he said late one night as we hit 90 on a stretch of deserted road somewhere in between Cairo and Alexandria. He cranked NIN’s Closer to an obscene decibel and smiled at me, “Habibti You’re my best friend!” he had yelled into the night. “And you’re my bitch!” I’d yelled back. I knew then that we’d be friends for life
Fast forward two years later April 2008; our friendship is tighter than ever. Due to our conflicting schedules it had been months since we’d seen each other. He’d left me a voice mail, “I miss you. I really need to see you“ and this is how I found myself sitting in a restaurant exchanging Christmas presents in April. He laughed when he read the inscription below his name on the Zippo lighter I’d gotten him. 'Salaam (peace) Homie' it read. “I will only use this lighter from now on” he vowed as I snapped a picture of him with the new digital camera he’d gotten me.
“Habibti (my beloved) I want to marry you.” he announced.
He caught me off guard with his proposal. My eyes darted around the room wondering who the hell he was talking to. He inclined his head towards me making it clear I was the one he was talking to and about.
My eyes narrowed, focusing on the folded napkin in front of me, “Did I miss something?” I asked.
“You’re my best friend; you know I’ve always said this…and I love you this you know as well.” He replied.
I cleared my throat, uh no I didn’t. Well maybe I did but I never thought he was serious. I nodded my head and watched as he lit his cigarette.You know now would be a good time to pick up the habit I thought to myself.
I decided to play it cool, “I have friends who think you’re hot, I could hook you up.”
He smiled and shook his head, “Your friends think I’m hot?”
I nodded my head. His entire body shook from his deep laughter. When he finally stopped he gently grabbed my chin and brought my line of vision to his face a gentle smile crossing his face, “I want YOU not your friends.”
“ Holy monkey.” I leaned back in my chair and gave him the ill look. What woman doesn’t long to hear words like that? It was a damn shame they were wasted on me.
“Would it be so bad to be with me? You know I would give you everything, the moon and stars if you asked.”
“Dude, why would you even want to go there? You know I have a boyfriend.”
“Why not? You’re like an angel to me and you drive me crazy. ”
“And you’re like a brother to me.”
He picked up my hand running a finger along the sapphire and diamond ring he’d given me several years before. He looked into my eyes, unable to find what he was looking for within them he dropped my hand and nodded his head in acceptance.The waitress arrived with our food. He picked up mini puff pastry spinach thingy. He attempted to feed me and I backed up. Now that I knew how he thought he felt having him feed me was too intimate.
I narrow my eyes and wrinkled my nose, “I can feed myself.”
He sighed in response, “It’s never bothered you that I’ve fed you from my hand before.”
He waved the pastry in front of my lips, “Open for me. It’s your favorite.” I crossed my eyes at him and he laughed as I opened my mouth to accept the pastry.
“So what’s secondly?” he said as he grabbed my hand.
“What?” I asked when I was done swallowing and pulled my hand away.
He smiled and took my hand back, “Habibti you said first of all and where ever there is a first of all a secondly follows.”
“Can’t we just drop this subject?” I asked.
“No because I’m wondering what the secondly is about.
“Ay fine.” I had to stop and think for a minute as to how to phrase what I wanted to say without hurting him.
“I’m just a substitute for the one you really want.”
He opened his mouth to protest but I held my finger up gesturing for silence.He’d been in love when we’d met. He’d dated her on the sneak all through college but his mother hadn’t approved of the girl. His mother however had approved of me. She’d been crazy about me ever since she’d met me as an eight year old. “Fight for your love, fight for your woman! Screw what your mother wants!” I’d snapped at him the night his family had decided he would not be marrying the girl.
“Besides I am not your type you said so yourself.”
“What, When the hell did I say this?” he asked.
I sighed and took him back down memory lane.
“When we met, you looked at my piercings, my tats and said, “you’re a crazy girl, I could never be with someone like you.” I said. He laughed at my dead on imitation of his Arab accent.
“I never said that!”
“Yes you did. Ask your brother. ”
”Was I drunk?”
I laughed, “Nope. You were sober as a mosque mouse.”
“And I said that?”
He sat quietly for a few seconds obviously going over our first meeting. I could see the hamster in his head turning the wheel.
“You have a black heart!” he exclaimed.
I nearly choked on my soda, “Huh?! What the hell, I thought I was an angel?”
“Yes you are but you have a black heart for holding that remark against me. I was an idiot.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and leaned his head towards me as if he were telling me a secret,“Is that why you never allowed me to kiss you?”
“Yes, always truth between us.”
“I never saw you that way. You’re my aunt’s brother-in-law. You’re like family.”
“You know Mira was right, she said you’d break my heart” he responded.
Okay that shocked me. “When was this?”
“Remember the night you wore that black top?”
Ah yes the infamous black satin top. You would’ve sworn that I was walking around topless from his reaction. The top was a sleeveless v-neck number, nothing none of our female friends and at least two of the gay guys wouldn’t have worn. That night was the first time he’d seen me dressed up and wearing make-up. I recalled the teasing his reaction had drawn from our friends. His jaw had dropped and he’d stared…really stared. I remember wanting to punch him in the face especially when he growled at me to cover myself up and buttoned me up to my neck in his suit jacket despite my loud and colorful protests.
I smiled at him and shrugged my shoulders. He looked hurt, but I pressed my case. I argued that what he was feeling for me a result of loneliness and it was not love. Not to mention his family accepted me and nothing would please them more than to see us married. I was an easy way out for him. I made a proposal. I’d work on his mother and he’d call the girl and kiss major ass in order to get her back into his life and this time he’d man up and stand up to his family. He seemed hesitant to go along with my plan but I refused to give up. When I was done I sat back in my chair feeling really pleased with myself.
He shook his head and stared at me for a second. I fluttered my eyelashes at him playfully and he smiled at me.
“So about this boyfriend, do you love him habibti?”
“So I’ve lost you huh?”
“You never had me in that way. You’ve always had my platonic love, respect, and friendship.”
He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his broad chest and just stared at me and then a smile slowly crept along his face.I returned it with a big cheesy grin of my own.
“So how about it, are we still friends?” I held my hand out to him he looked at it for a second before taking it and placing a kiss in my palm.
“Best friends. I’m not going to stop calling you Habibti you know this, yes?”
I laughed, “and I’ll never stop calling you my bitch.”
My plan worked. He’d married in January and had just returned from a three month honey moon. Once again we were exchanging Christmas gifts. He’d gotten me a hyper zoom lens for my camera. I was one ecstatic Mia. He pulled me onto this lap and wrapped his arms around me hugging me tightly.
“I love you Habibti.” He said. “Tell me you love me.”
“Like trailer trash loves deep fried Twinkies” I said.
He laughed and kissed my nose.
“No prob.” I said stood up and took another seat.
“I am going to be a father.” He announced as he stood up and sat on my lap. I let out a grunt. Dude was heavy. His wife had conceived during their honeymoon. The urine wasn’t even dry on the EPT stick when my Aunt Nora had called me with the news from Egypt.
I nodded my head, “They called me.” I pushed him off my lap, he was cutting the circulation off my legs.
“If it is a girl we’re naming her after you.” He said.
I jumped up out of my seat in excitement.“ I am so going to spoil that kid!”
He pulled me towards him. I put my hands out to stop him.
“Are you going to hug me again?”
“Hold up let me at least pop a birth control pill before you do. I’m not taking chances with you. You’re like a fertile myrtle right now!”
He threw his head back and laughed yanking me into his arms hugging me tightly dropping a kiss on top of my head.
“ You give me so much joy. You will always be my Habibti.”
“and you will always be my bitch.”I mumbled against his chest.
4 comment from: Goggles Piasano Ritardo, Goggles Piasano Ritardo, Mia, Goggles Piasano Ritardo,