Arab Dreams

Gosh it sounded like a title of a porn movie. But anyway, Thank God that I could act. Not in the porn, but I just had to. For the amount of cash that he was asking for a mere 1.8 by 2.3 m rug that I was sweetly fondling in my delicate hands, I could easily purchase the latest all-in 17” MacBook Pro right away. I had to act like I was somebody. Like it was no biggie for someone to spend an obscure amount of hard-earned-cash to then just throw it on the floor and nonchalantly step on it. Instead of looking shocked and amazed, I of course said, “Do you have other similar patterns? Yes, I see… It’s very lovely…”

Prior to this, I knew that I had this “thing” for sun-tanned Mediterranean jocks, but I never knew that the fixations would extend to even floor-coverings as well: Oh the intricate patterns and the brilliant colors. They were God sent! Extremely and gorgeously beautiful. It was as if the world had stopped and even the most beautiful man would never satisfy my needs any longer. So there they were, laid seductively spread-eagled for my own viewing pleasure. The carpets, not the Mediterranean men, mind you! Very traditional Arabic (motifs) they were or shall I say (precisely), Iranian? And when the Pakistani shop owner made a 180-degree rotation of the carpet, I then saw the same pattern in another color-hue of the same exact rug. It almost felt like I would even sell my soul for this. To produce this wonderful effect, the carpet, he said, incorporated a dual-dimension weaving technique. I was sold. At the moment, all I ever wanted to say was, “Do you take Master or Visa ?”.