May 30, 2008 20:07
They thought they'd be rid of me, burying me under the sand near a train station off Luxor.
...Well they were right.
So back during the cat deal I decided to take a breath of fresh air south of the Mediterranean and booked a trip on a junker heading down to Cairo. The captain was this fairly large man, panicked from the room whenever someone lit up a cigarette.
After we made landing, it was my intent to crash at Dio's pad during my vacation. So I was flashing around this photograph of his place I had in this small side cafe, having never actually been there. And this joker in the back, American or some such, making a fiendishly elaborate card house; he says he knows that building. So I ask him, and he starts rambling on about gambling for, man, like three hours. All I want is directions, and he goes on and on. I tried to brush him off as a crazy tourist but he followed me out into the road.
That's when he swung a shovel at the back of my head.
(Buried in sand. For a month. Yes, this is my excuse for lack of active-ness during finals. Don't kill me.)