The Peccavo Disorder
I think I have it. No, I'm sure I have it. I have the Peccavo Disorder. I sincerely believe [at first] that when any guy, gay or straight - especially straight - wants to talk to me, he's interested in me sexually.
Three cases in point:
I've joined a summer camp. This time, as a volunteer. It's not a 'camp' as much as it is a two-hour meeting three times a week. What makes the Special Families Support summer camp different from other camps is that it's for special needs children. We help the children learn to dance, play football, swimming or basketball or simply let them have fun by jumping their feet off on a trampoline.
So anyways, the first day of the camp was on July 8th. Before that we had an orientation at the Mövenpick Hotel on July 2nd. The actual orientation lasted about 10 minutes and we danced the rest of the time [2 hours]. The whole evening, I'd be been eyeing the part-leader part-organizer of the SFS summer camp, Anish. He's this cute, easy-going fellow with an adorable voice and nice hair. Anyways, before I left the party-hall, I talked to him. He asked me my name and I asked him his. That was it.
In all seriousness, I spent the next three days day-dreaming about him. Dude? He just asked you your name!
Number two: Today was the second day of camp. Unlike last time, we weren't kicking a 1000-pound rubber football around. Today we played other games which involved crawling, sliding and rolling. We also sang silly songs and danced. The last dance number was Shakira's Hips Don't Lie [cliché?] and while the special needs children slipped away to feast on the biryaani, I teamed up with other girls to shake my lying hips. A few other guys joined us in dancing. Among them was this tall-ish cute-ish chap whom we shall call B. When he saw me belly-dancing [or at least trying to!] he made some smart-ass comment which I don't remember now, but that comment got me instantly interested in him.
Then later, as he was handing out plates of biryaani to people, I approached him. He told me, "Call other people to eat the biryaani."
"Why would they listen to me?" I asked.
He laughed a little and said, "'Cause you're the cute one!"
I laughed a little and quietly turned away with my plate of biryaani.
Maybe I read him wrong, but his compliment is now making me see him in a totally different light.
After camp today, I met up with an old friend from Arab Unity School. He'd been writing on my wall on Facebook, asking me to make a plan so we could all get together and I kept putting it off because I didn't know what to do. Then yesterday, when I was out riding my bicycle, he rang me. I hadn't really spoken to him in over a year, so his voice came as a surprise to me. All heavy and American-accented [I dunno from where, 'cause he's never been to America! Maybe because he goes to the American University of Dubai...]. We talked about getting together. Just the fact that he rang me to talk to me was enough to stimulate the release of a bunch of sex hormones into my blood and I was instantly imagining him making out with your's truly.
We met at LimeLite café on Sheikh Zayed Road with 5 other friends, some of whom I knew from Arab Unity and some who are his friends from university. He was looking hot with his hair done upwards and his sideburns long and thin, but he didn't show me any 'special' interest, if you know what I mean. That didn't really stop me from dreaming.
My ride back home was one of his friends from university. His name is Zeeshan. I asked him where he lived and his reply came as a little shock to me: he lives in the same neighborhood as I do. And his street number is just one more than mine. Gosh! I asked him if his house was the one near the cul-de-sac. "Yes, that's the one.." he answered.
"Oh. You know, I might have even talked to your mother once. Is she the one who walks outside a lot?"
"Oh yeah."
"Hmm.. she told me to get her sons away from in front of the TV."
"Oh, that was YOU? She told us that she used to see this guy running around all the time.."
I laughed. I couldn't believe it. "Small, small world. Tiny, tiny, tiny world," I said.
Three cases in point:
I've joined a summer camp. This time, as a volunteer. It's not a 'camp' as much as it is a two-hour meeting three times a week. What makes the Special Families Support summer camp different from other camps is that it's for special needs children. We help the children learn to dance, play football, swimming or basketball or simply let them have fun by jumping their feet off on a trampoline.
So anyways, the first day of the camp was on July 8th. Before that we had an orientation at the Mövenpick Hotel on July 2nd. The actual orientation lasted about 10 minutes and we danced the rest of the time [2 hours]. The whole evening, I'd be been eyeing the part-leader part-organizer of the SFS summer camp, Anish. He's this cute, easy-going fellow with an adorable voice and nice hair. Anyways, before I left the party-hall, I talked to him. He asked me my name and I asked him his. That was it.
In all seriousness, I spent the next three days day-dreaming about him. Dude? He just asked you your name!
Number two: Today was the second day of camp. Unlike last time, we weren't kicking a 1000-pound rubber football around. Today we played other games which involved crawling, sliding and rolling. We also sang silly songs and danced. The last dance number was Shakira's Hips Don't Lie [cliché?] and while the special needs children slipped away to feast on the biryaani, I teamed up with other girls to shake my lying hips. A few other guys joined us in dancing. Among them was this tall-ish cute-ish chap whom we shall call B. When he saw me belly-dancing [or at least trying to!] he made some smart-ass comment which I don't remember now, but that comment got me instantly interested in him.
Then later, as he was handing out plates of biryaani to people, I approached him. He told me, "Call other people to eat the biryaani."
"Why would they listen to me?" I asked.
He laughed a little and said, "'Cause you're the cute one!"
I laughed a little and quietly turned away with my plate of biryaani.
Maybe I read him wrong, but his compliment is now making me see him in a totally different light.
After camp today, I met up with an old friend from Arab Unity School. He'd been writing on my wall on Facebook, asking me to make a plan so we could all get together and I kept putting it off because I didn't know what to do. Then yesterday, when I was out riding my bicycle, he rang me. I hadn't really spoken to him in over a year, so his voice came as a surprise to me. All heavy and American-accented [I dunno from where, 'cause he's never been to America! Maybe because he goes to the American University of Dubai...]. We talked about getting together. Just the fact that he rang me to talk to me was enough to stimulate the release of a bunch of sex hormones into my blood and I was instantly imagining him making out with your's truly.
We met at LimeLite café on Sheikh Zayed Road with 5 other friends, some of whom I knew from Arab Unity and some who are his friends from university. He was looking hot with his hair done upwards and his sideburns long and thin, but he didn't show me any 'special' interest, if you know what I mean. That didn't really stop me from dreaming.
My ride back home was one of his friends from university. His name is Zeeshan. I asked him where he lived and his reply came as a little shock to me: he lives in the same neighborhood as I do. And his street number is just one more than mine. Gosh! I asked him if his house was the one near the cul-de-sac. "Yes, that's the one.." he answered.
"Oh. You know, I might have even talked to your mother once. Is she the one who walks outside a lot?"
"Oh yeah."
"Hmm.. she told me to get her sons away from in front of the TV."
"Oh, that was YOU? She told us that she used to see this guy running around all the time.."
I laughed. I couldn't believe it. "Small, small world. Tiny, tiny, tiny world," I said.