In recent days, two of my girlfriends have bought new cars. Both are new drivers. And both have no bf's or husbands - thus no one to run errands like taking the car to be registered, riding with them their first few times on the road or responding to an SOS when they're driving around & around because they can't figure out how to squeeze the car into any available parking spot.
Everyone knows am not the stuff driving instructors are made of. I simply don't have the patience. I started driving so early - long before I got my license. And I just taught myself by going out with my friends to the Ladies Beach & driving their mothers' cars and by driving my brothers' and my cousins' cars every year when we'd go home for the summer.
When I did take the compulsory driving lessons you need to get your license here in AD, they consisted of driving around while the instructor ate takeaway or gossiped on her mobile.
As a result, the very concept of driving being something you could teach someone is hard for me to get my head around. If am in the car with someone and they make a mistake, I go ballistic. When am in my car and other drivers make a mistake, I go ballistic.
So never ask me to teach you to drive. I'm not SAFE.
However, like a good friend, I volunteered my husband to help. He didn't mind. He got to drive 2 very nice cars and show off his driving skills to two very nice girls who are both suitably grateful and won't shut up about how sweet he is etc....
Infact if they don't shut up about it pretty soon though, I think am going to EXPLODE.
Let me give you an example:
Yesterday, the two girls offered to buy us dinner to show gratitude. One arrived safely. The other got stuck and couldn't park her car. So of course, he went downstairs to help. She came up - all gushy and gooey about him. And I managed to keep my proud wifely smile firmly in place. Barely.
When he arrived a few minutes later, having had to drive around a bit to find parking, the two of them were instantly in transports over his chivalry, his amazing driving skills, his generous heart, his sense of humor, how he made driving so much fun and had them in stitches the whole time etc.... And of course he was basking in it, turning on the charm big-time. I started to wonder if I was really needed. The Mutual Admiration Society seemed to be proceeding just fine without me.
One of the girls - we'll call her B. - is Lebanese. Her elder sister is actually a good friend of mine but you know how it is. When you're friends with one sister out of 3, you end up getting the other two for free whether you like it or not. All 3 sisters are gorgeous incidentally.
So there he was explaining some parking technicality to her and the conversation went something like this:
B. : Merci kteer. 3an jad badak boseh.(Thank you. I want a kiss)
Him: Inzili khodi bosa howa inti sgayara?(Come on down and get one. The 'come on down' was because he was sitting back on the couch and she happened to be standing at the time.)
So - giggling and going all red - she leans down & kisses him on the left cheek, giggling some more and complaining about the stubble. He said something to the effect that if he'd known she was going to kiss his cheek he would have shaved. Which was just infuriating because he's been growing out a beard for about a week now and I've been getting all sorts of skin scratches, scrapes and burns and I NEVER complained and he never offered to shave for ME!
Upon which the other girl - a Moroccan I'll refer to as F. - complains that she is jealous & wants a kiss too.
Him: Illy 3ayez 7aga yeegi yakhodha.(Anyone who wants anything should come and get it.)
F. : So you don't want a kiss?
Him: Ana mish ha2ool la bas mish ana illy 3ayez.(I'm not saying no but I'm not the one who asked.)
F. : Should I kiss you on the right or the left?
Him: Ya basha inti ti3mili illy inti 3ayzah. I7na ta7t amrik.(Essentially he was saying she should do what she likes, that he's at her service.)
More giggling. I was ready to burst at that point. I knew he was deliberately speaking in Arabic because he knows they love the Egyptian accent and sense of humor. I didn't think he was being particularly funny but they were laughing at every syllable.
So F. gives him two kisses - left first, then right.
Him: Tab el7amdullilah(Thank God). Ana kont khayef la elyimeen yikoon feeh 3aib ma 7addish 3ayez yiboos feeh(I was getting worried there was something wrong with the right side of my face, that no one wants to kiss it).
More giggling, eyelash-batting & other pukey stuff.
Then my silence must have made itself pronounced.
B.: K, how about L.(Me)?
Him: Wi di 3ayza soa'al(There's no question)?Di sa7bit bait. Teegi fi ay wa2t tboos wi trawa7(She can kiss me anytime). Mish mi7taga minha isti'izan(She doesn't need permission).
The last thing I felt like doing at that moment was to kiss him. The options were more like:
1) Slap his face
2) Scratch his eyes out
3) Kick him where it hurts
4) Make him sleep on the couch for the rest of his life
5) All of the above