Stumbled on an old piece I wrote a while back and it reminded me of an incident that took place at a time when I lived in Sharjah, UAE.
The sound of a cat clawing at my door woke me up. (At least that’s what it sounded like) I had gotten to the door when I realized I had nothing on. The thought of the headlines reading “Nigerian woman suspected of child trafficking found murdered” made me go back and put some clothes on.
As I got dressed, I heard what sounded like a splash. And then another splash, silence. And then more clawing.
I walked towards the door more curious than scared, opened the door and there stood my friend Lance (not his real name).
This was the second time he had pulled this “show up in the dead of the night” crap. I noticed immediately that he had been drinking but I didn’t realize how much until he uttered the words “see” and I looked down. Dude had barfed on the floor, some had splashed on my door and also on the door of the apartment next to mine. The sight made me heave. I was furious but had to make split second decisions.
I could not verbalize my anger for a number of reasons including the fact that it was the dead of the night and I didn’t want to wake up my neighbors, but most importantly I lived in Sharjah. A town where the cops can pull over to confirm that a couple holding hands on the streets are a couple in the eyes of God, how could i have explained a drunk man at mine at that time of the night? I could have gotten into so much trouble.
No version of me wanted anyone to see that mess so I pulled him in and shoved him into my bathroom. I went back out with cleaning supplies and looked at the mess he had made and tears came to my eyes. Was this my life? What the (insert expletive).
It was a disgusting chore and I tossed everything I used down the chute and went back to my apartment where another mess awaited.
It seemed being in a bathroom made Lance want to take a bath but the soggy clothes on the floor implied he may have taken the bath with his clothes on. (More expletives)
When i was done cleaning up the bathroom, i staggered to my bed to find Lance sprawled across my bed and snoring.
I sank to the floor and sent my friend a message. She suggested I thrashed him with his belt that I would feel better and he won’t remember. But I was too tired.
I grabbed my duvet and crashed on my single seat (I lived in a studio apartment at the time). Woke up in the morning and got ready for work. Lance was still asleep when I left the building. About 6 pm he called and asked “hi, why am I in your bed?”
