Cairo, the 25th November, 2009

"Tea for two (at my place or at yours?!)"

The joys and surprises of life in Cairo never cease... it's an endless rollercoaster of madness and strange episodes I cannot even start to understand.

Sinopse of the STORY BOARD:

Time of the plot: 2.00h in the morning, returning home from work.

Place: Taxi, already near from my home.

Main theme: Police man who stopped my taxi in order to take a looksie at me ( just checking the beef, honey!) and invite himself to to my home in the middle of the night.

What the hell happened?!

Well.

Police men do constant control to taxis and their users so it's normal that my vehicle is stopped and identification is requested (me, my assistant and the driver's identification).They usually search for drugs, any escape from the law, some money under the table for no reason or "girl checking up". "My" police man chose the last.

My assistant was lacking her ID so we got stuck with the police man in the car until we reach my home and he left the cab with us. I was carrying bags and was anxious to get home so I failed to notice the police man was following us until we reached the elevator of my home.

When I turned and faced the police man he was already preparing to go up with me and my assistant in the elevator. Checking my breasts - even under my heavy jacket - and already dreaming of a "menage a trois" (disgusting, beyond disgusting!) he launched himself into the elevator as if he knew us for centuries.

My hand stopped him right on the his chest.

My voice stopped him because I yelled so high that I think he went deaf.

After he recovered from the shock of my gesture and yelling, I gave him time to breath and asked him:

"-Where do you think you're going?!"

"-I am going up with you."

"- Going up with me to where?! And for what reason?!"

"- Just going with you."

"-Ahhhhhaaaaaaahhhhhhh????????!!!!!!!!!!"

This was my last word or animal shriek or something of the sort.

The police man finally got the message: NO FOREIGN BEEF FOR YOU, MY DEAR.

The next day, I knew that the police man waited for my assistant to come down and followed her home where he invited himself for tea and cookies. Nobody at her home had the guts - or the will - to ask him to leave.

And that's how some beautiful friendships are born in Egypt!

Until now, no identification was requested from my assistant. The cookies must have been really delicious.

How can I NOT love Egypt?!