This story begins .here.
I had my next vacations in 1995.
And God gave me the next hint, “She’s in a small Arabic country” and I planned a trip to Jordan.
When I was a boy, a Pakistani barber once told me nymphs and mermaids lived in Jordan.
But my second elder brother, Zakir, wanted me to visit Pakistan to help him complete heirship document for our deceased parents.
I first got a tourist visa to Jordan and then went on a week’s trip to Pakistan and stayed at al-Andalus House, our eldest brother’s house.
My Pakistan mission failed.
Hamid was watching.
He’s always watching me… closely yet secretly.
He discreetly called Abid and tipped to him to hold me for one more week, to completely lay waste to my 2-weeks’ vacations.
Abid had reasons to like that tip.
I consulted Zakir using Abid’s telephone and he advised me to get another week from my employer. I again used Abid’s line to call my employer in Jeddah and got another week.
I kept that a secret.
Abid’s wife doesn’t understand Arabic and I had made all calls in Arabic.
I went to ALIA (Royal Jordanian)’s office and postponed my flight to Jordan by one week.
After Abid dropped me off at airport with a wicked, wide smile across his face, I waited a while for him to return home.
Then I called him from inside the airport and told him about extension in vacations and how I used his phone, his house, his wife and him to drop me in his car.
I told him there were no flights to Jeddah, I was going to Amman.
He was dumbfounded and had nothing to say.
Upon my safe arrival to Amman and getting some rest, I asked a taxi driver about Air ALIA’s office to confirm my flight back to Jeddah.
He confused me when he mentioned a hill in the address of their offices. I asked him to take me to that office on a hill.
I found a very beautiful damsel in the office and her name was Taghreed (birdsong or chirp).
I asked her out but she was a conservative girl who marry whoever their parents choose for them.
Instead of feeling mercy for her, I felt insulted. I used to feel frustrated with Burqa-clad girls of Saudi Arabia who go into a black head-to-toe turban since age 6.
My anger kindled against women.
I first asked the taxi driver to show me a “good” girl, a prostitute who doesn’t mind extra-marital sex.
He asked me to wait for him till 9pm.
He took me to a night club.
There were two girls wearing shorts and dancing on some romantic music. We were alone there with a Saudi rich client.
After enjoying their dance show, I went out. The taxi driver had told me they were expensive and I couldn’t compete with that rich Saudi.
I left both girls to the asshole.
We then went on a tour of the ruins of the Romans, the ruins of Petra and the ruins or the dead sea of Sodom & Gomorrah and reached Aqaba.
There was a hill in Aqaba also.
I went there but it was another desert and just a tad better than the ruins of Petra.
Then my anger kindled against God.
He had fooled me. There were no girls in Bursa de Turkey nor on any hill or mountain of Jordan.
I asked a local taxi driver to show me a cheating wife.
Yes, a cheating wife.
He knew 3.
The first was occupied.
The second was no longer in business.
The third asked us to wait for her husband to go out to drink.
We waited and waited and waited but her stupid husband won’t go out to drink that night.
At last, I lost hope.
I told my young, handsome taxi driver that if he failed to find me a girl that night, I was going to fuck him instead!
He looked at me with eyes wide open out of fear…
then we burst into a laugh!
The first taxi driver had ripped me off all money and there were no international ATM machines in Jordan.
This story continues .here.