Tire Guy: (Job Done, dusting his hands off) OK! We are all Penish?
Tire Guy: Penish! All Penish!! (Huge smile)
me: I'm sorry, we are Penis?...
Tyre Guy: (spreading arms wide, pointing to the truck) Yes!!! We are all Penissss!
Me: (Backing away slowly) No, I really don't think we are Penis.
Other Dude: Madam, he means Finshed. He is finished fixing your tyres. You can go now.
Me: (Sheepishly)Oh, right... How embarassing.
Early Morning: I'm in Bed, Stone is in the Bathroom
Stone: (coughing, gaging, hacking, spitting)
me: Are you ok?
Stone: Yeah, except I gagged myself while brushing my teeth.
Me: Again? Are you suffering from Bulemia?
Stone: No, but my gag reflex is crazy
Me: Dude, you are so lucky you are not gay, because you would be really bad at giving blow jobs!
Stone: Woman, what is wrong with you?? Seriously?
Seriously, I'm still not Saudi... ***
Old ROP Guy: (looking at my Iqamma) Oooh! Al Saudia! You is Saudi?
My PRO: La, look at her baba, does she look saudi to you?
Old ROP Guy: (looking at me, in blue jeans and a pit shirt) You are Saudi! Yes?
Me: Nope, I'm American.
My PRO: Here, see this is her passport, American!
Me: I like Shagging Infidels! And Drinking Whiskey! And running around stark naked!
----- (Baffled silence)------
My PRO: (whispering) What the fuck is wrong with you? I'm never bringing you here again!
ROP Guy: Hmmm... So, Not Saudi?
*** No trip anywhere that requires me to present my Iqamma is complete without some version of the above conversation. It is beginning to get old.