I find most aspects of being a functioning adult challenging, particularly:
1. Interpersonal relationships of almost any kind
2. Currency conversions
3. Remembering to smile during encounters with other people, or at least not look pathologically aggressive
4. Getting beyond ‘I’m fine thanks,’ and consequently hiding behind desks rather than having to share a lift with a vague acquaintance filled with silence and expectation
5. Maintaining conversation when my interlocutor wishes to discuss clothes/shoewear/men*/how a mechanical object functions
6. Timing the adjustment of chest armour so as not to be detected by e.g. male colleagues
7. Remembering stuff
8. Wearing belts without missing a belt loop**
While I apparently have vaguely autistic tendencies without the genius, this affliction does not usually extend to clumsiness. But then of course life always likes to mix things up, and voila the eggs on today’s menu:
The Khartoum Incident
Reaching for the hose pipe water jet contraption used in connection with – la mo2akhza – nature’s urges, I inadvertently turn the bloody thing on while it is still attached to the wall. It is affixed at eye level, resulting in a torrent of Cairo’s finest water carwashing my glasses and rinsing the back of my left eyeball, blinding me temporarily in the process.
Speak softly, love
Going to the kitchen at work involves crossing a reception type area where nice paternal colleague Mr Bidangan sits. On exiting my room today, I entered his area at the precise moment when he emitted a schoolboy prankster-type belch of quite frankly astonishing volume, depth and intensity. Its machine gun cadence rang in the air as I speed-walked past, studiously examining the carpet, as he tried to salvage a scrap of dignity by morphing the last notes of his offering into a monstrous fake cough/throat-clearing noise, and in the process sounding like a baboon during the mating season.
Walking home, in addition to the usual weel-coms in Egybt I am accosted by a posse of flying gnats who, in an act of mafia generosity, spare the eye injured in the Khartoum Incident, and instead punish my right eye by flying into it and refusing to leave until I pay protection money. Causing more temporary blindness.
* Other than discussion of their posteriors/any part of Ahmed Ezz
** These things are also known collectively as ‘life.’