Over the years, I have certainly had some strange visitors. In the old days, I had all of these Arabs with bad accents lurking around me.
They always seemed to have big plans, like, really big plans for the future. Like, getting al gassed up in a bar, and picking up ‘young American girls,’ for whom ‘sex was like transaction at bank,’ and other insightful ethnographic observations.
Or, sometimes, they had ways to encourage me to become a better tax payer, like maybe I was interested in stinger missiles, or yellow diamonds? No? How about you just tell me who might want to make some money? No?
O.K., then, here, I buy you drink.
Then, at the end of the night, I would notice that my notebooks full of poetry, and other writings had disappeared. Yeah, I know–never bring your personal work to work and all.
Well, nevermind–that was over ten years ago. I felt so Abscammed in those days, I couldn’t even point a finger at who might have taken these things–or who it was left what where. And I became mentally exhausted, wondering why I was so interesting to so many Arabs with bad accents.
But I DID learn who it was that I did not want to invite to diner–but they came anyways! For decades! They would show up, unannounced, and furtively assess my fixin’s. At times, they would take apiece of pie, only to return it months later–as if I wouldn’t notice a missing slice; or, take the whole enchilada, and never return it (some of those enchiladas were kept so long and without cause that they rotted! But even then, they never returned them)…
Well–I got so tired of it all, that I put up a ‘you are not welcome here’ sign.
But most of them speak such poor Arabic that they were only second rate at reading English too.
So, as promised last night, here is a picture or two of yet another unwelcome guest who ate more than their share, and left messes behind them: