Betting on the Gigi
I forget how we met (or even if we ever met or spoke at all*), but it's about time everyone should learn about my time with Gigi Ibrahim and our dark forbidden passion. It started innocently enough: I was looking up stuff about the Egyptian revolution and I found a photo of a cute chick who seemed to be one of the people in charge. This is the photo I posed on my Facebook page:
The following comments:
Not for the first time, driven to action by the words of my friend Garreth, I took a risky action in pursuit of a female who was, on the face of it, "out of my league". The linked image is just this screencap:
To anyone else, this response would be discouraging. But I have learned that women often play "hard to get", and anyway, when life gets you down, your friends are always there for you:
I sent a friend request, not expecting much. When she accepted I sort of panicked because Garreth was not available:
(The Christian de Neuvillette reference is to the character in Cyrano de Bergerac who was being fed the lines he needed to impress the target of his affection.) I decided to low lie for a while. During this period, Gigi went to great lengths to make sure I knew just how busy and full her life was without me. It was kind of pathetic, really. She even went on The Daily Show and said nothing, even when asked directly by Jon Stewart about what he satirically called her "Irish Facebook stalker". I wasn't sure how to proceed from here, but again Garreth came to the rescue:
A poem! Why not? How bad could it be. So, I wrote her this poem, which is being published in the public domain here for the very first time, you lucky, lucky people:
Gigi Ibrahim!
You have a crazy Arab-name
That makes me think that maybe
You want to blow us all to hell and back.
Or as you would say, "to Jahannam and back".
But then I see your hair
Which I can see
Refreshingly
But then I see your keffiyeh
Coyly draped
That men's ardour be not inflamed.
But then I see your eyes
Red with the good fight
Or too much wine last night
But then I hear your voice
And you are, like, American
Or Egyptian or something inbetween
And I remember that I live inbetween!
It's a nice place for people like us
A place most people have never seen
But people like me drive the bus
Tell me about revolutionary socialism!
And freedom and human rights!
Tell me anything you want to!
I'll listen to you all night.
But at some point I will go down to the fridge
For Ben & Jerry's Phish Food.
It's three o'clock in the morning
And I have to get up early.
Would you like to join me?
I thought that was cute and inoffensive, with a few culture-specific jokes to prove I'm not just screwing around. Also, I like to mention ice cream whenever I'm trying to impress a girl; bitches love ice cream. However, for some reason, my preview audience didn't like it at all. In fact, one early review raised the possibility that it might get me "STABBED IN THE STREET". Normally that wouldn't stop me, but given that she's probably friends with several armed revolutionary Muslims, I said I'd just leave it alone this one time.
After people found out that I was chasing down Gigi Ibrahim like a police labrador with a lost child's shirt, her page got so many friend requests that she had to turn her profile into a fan page:
And that's where we are now. No one knows what the future holds. But for me and Gigi, I think it's just a matter of taking each day as it comes. We have our ups and downs, but we're concentrating on the future. Why just the other day I spent a delusional two hours on the phone with her suggesting names for the two girls and a boy we're planning to have. No one knows what the future holds...
The hardest thing is deciding what I should tell you and what not to. Well, anyway, I've got a while yet before you're old enough to understand the tapes. They're more for me at this point... to help get it all straight. Should I tell you about your father? That's a tough one. Will it change your decision to send him here... knowing? But if you don't send Kyle, you could never be. God, you can go crazy thinking about all this... I suppose I'll tell you... I owe him that. And maybe it'll be enough if you know that in the few hours we had together we loved a lifetime's worth.
- Sarah Connor, Terminator, 1984
* We didn't.
The following comments:
Not for the first time, driven to action by the words of my friend Garreth, I took a risky action in pursuit of a female who was, on the face of it, "out of my league". The linked image is just this screencap:
To anyone else, this response would be discouraging. But I have learned that women often play "hard to get", and anyway, when life gets you down, your friends are always there for you:
I sent a friend request, not expecting much. When she accepted I sort of panicked because Garreth was not available:
(The Christian de Neuvillette reference is to the character in Cyrano de Bergerac who was being fed the lines he needed to impress the target of his affection.) I decided to low lie for a while. During this period, Gigi went to great lengths to make sure I knew just how busy and full her life was without me. It was kind of pathetic, really. She even went on The Daily Show and said nothing, even when asked directly by Jon Stewart about what he satirically called her "Irish Facebook stalker". I wasn't sure how to proceed from here, but again Garreth came to the rescue:
A poem! Why not? How bad could it be. So, I wrote her this poem, which is being published in the public domain here for the very first time, you lucky, lucky people:
Gigi Ibrahim!
You have a crazy Arab-name
That makes me think that maybe
You want to blow us all to hell and back.
Or as you would say, "to Jahannam and back".
But then I see your hair
Which I can see
Refreshingly
But then I see your keffiyeh
Coyly draped
That men's ardour be not inflamed.
But then I see your eyes
Red with the good fight
Or too much wine last night
But then I hear your voice
And you are, like, American
Or Egyptian or something inbetween
And I remember that I live inbetween!
It's a nice place for people like us
A place most people have never seen
But people like me drive the bus
Tell me about revolutionary socialism!
And freedom and human rights!
Tell me anything you want to!
I'll listen to you all night.
But at some point I will go down to the fridge
For Ben & Jerry's Phish Food.
It's three o'clock in the morning
And I have to get up early.
Would you like to join me?
I thought that was cute and inoffensive, with a few culture-specific jokes to prove I'm not just screwing around. Also, I like to mention ice cream whenever I'm trying to impress a girl; bitches love ice cream. However, for some reason, my preview audience didn't like it at all. In fact, one early review raised the possibility that it might get me "STABBED IN THE STREET". Normally that wouldn't stop me, but given that she's probably friends with several armed revolutionary Muslims, I said I'd just leave it alone this one time.
After people found out that I was chasing down Gigi Ibrahim like a police labrador with a lost child's shirt, her page got so many friend requests that she had to turn her profile into a fan page:
And that's where we are now. No one knows what the future holds. But for me and Gigi, I think it's just a matter of taking each day as it comes. We have our ups and downs, but we're concentrating on the future. Why just the other day I spent a delusional two hours on the phone with her suggesting names for the two girls and a boy we're planning to have. No one knows what the future holds...
The hardest thing is deciding what I should tell you and what not to. Well, anyway, I've got a while yet before you're old enough to understand the tapes. They're more for me at this point... to help get it all straight. Should I tell you about your father? That's a tough one. Will it change your decision to send him here... knowing? But if you don't send Kyle, you could never be. God, you can go crazy thinking about all this... I suppose I'll tell you... I owe him that. And maybe it'll be enough if you know that in the few hours we had together we loved a lifetime's worth.
- Sarah Connor, Terminator, 1984
* We didn't.