I'm too sexy for this country...

So today isn't a good day.  It's not a bad day, there's nothing really horrible about, but I'm not feeling too well (migraine/cold/medicine change combination), and I had to go to the grocery store, because that's where food comes from. 

They deliver everything else here, even Burger King, but I have to go buy my own apples.

So not feeling very well, I just kind of threw on some clothes (jeans and a gray v-neck t-shirt), ran a brush through my hair enough to get it into a pony tail held up with my most elegant scrunchie (maroon velour with satin edging and gold polka dots).  It's these days, when I put the least amount of effort into how I look that I seem to attract the most male attention.

I did my grocery shopping, then headed to Baskin-Robbin's for ice cream.  You can't trust ice cream from the grocery store freezer case.  There's a very good chance that it's spoiled or melted and refrozen or past the expiration date.  So ice cream is always take-away from the 31-derful world.  Today, as I was dragging my groceries through the mall in my wheeled bag (What? You think I carry all that stuff home?), I ended up walking next to a pair of gentlemen in Arab dress.  The kind of gentlemen who usually ignore me and go about their business.  This time, however, we were both headed for the same place and ended up doing that polite dance of "oh, you first, no you."  This lead to a deeper conversation, or at least what counts as deep in such a transient country as this.  Where are you from, what do you do, etc.  The man talking to me was from Tunisia and had gone to school at the University of Arizona. 

Which makes us biter rivals, as I am an Arizona State Alumna

It also makes it easy to banter and spend a few minutes in conversation.  He insisted on paying for my ice cream, to help bridge the gap between Wildcats and Sun Devils.  So I sat and talked to him for a few minutes.  I did this because I felt kind of obligated because he had bought me something.  This is a problematic mindset, that a woman owes something to a man, and it might have gotten me into trouble on occasion.  It might have even got me in trouble on this occasion as well.  Sal is a consultant, and our conversation was about him wanting me to market myself well and get a job, so I could be independent and "fly on my own."  I've met this type before.  The older man who wants to mentor you and talks big.  I smile and nod, and don't believe a word of it.  It's just like one of those internet ads claiming you can make hundreds of dollars per hour.  But he gave me his card and told me to call at anytime, day or night.  

He said he would be the genie in the lamp for me.

He said he'd like to meet my husband, if only to ask for my hand.  I told him I wouldn't convert for him, and he said that it wasn't necessary.  When I left because my ice cream was melting, he kissed my hand. I believe his Emirati companion was shocked, although I don't know whether it was because I was so friendly (or brazen for talking to a strange man), or because his companion was so obviously flirting with a married woman.  Maybe both.  He didn't talk too much.

He also had adult braces.

I did make the mistake of giving Sal my number.  I hope he never calls.  There is no possible way he could actually get me a job here, nor do I think I'd really want one.  I think he only wants me to "fly on my own" so that I might fly into his arms.  I've encountered that before too:  men who mistake my friendliness for flirtation and think I'd be happy to be their paramour.  My husband is laid back, likes me to do my own thing, and doesn't get jealous when I talk to other men.  That does not mean I'm available.  But I will let you buy me ice cream.