Think an Arabic ambient remix….
It was quite an alluring place, dim and large, however all the tables were set in an intertwined manner creating a false but convincing feeling of privacy on each table. The lighting did wonders to the place, subtle yellow spotlights very generously placed all over the place, some of them dangling on threads like the thread you would find on a Christmas tree. All yellow, all same color, boring, but the repetition was what made it beautiful.
The entire place was smoky, a good mix of tobacco, shisha and fake Cuban ( probably Honduran Cigars). You can hear the general chitchat of people having fun. The mood was like a 100- meter sprinter taking his mark. Its laid back, but you know it is only a matter of time before things really go wild. The mood was in the hands of a well dressed Disc Jokey sitting somewhere you cant see. But you can tell he has his eye on every table in the place, for his choice of music was very reactive to the mood the people were in.
To anyone walking in, it would look like you went into the only place in town that would cater to the bigwigs of the underworld, A few Commissiongeyya here and there, your local drug dealers, pimp ring leaders and dirty cops, maybe even a couple of public officials and a Governor’s chief of staff.
All the cities vices, it’s corrupt power out for a night, all in one place…
That’s what it would seem, but as we all love our imaginations to get the best of us, here was his take on the crowd:
Your crowd was a regular combination of fat suits surrounded by cheap beauty, a couple of young execs planning on having mad fun in a place away from their regular choice of venues, a couple of other guys feeling this is the beginning of a great social life to come when they managed to enter a place like that, and some unfortunate babes looking for a false sense of freedom, a freedom they yearn for and wrongly believe its been taken away from them, they’d stop at nothing to exercise it and prove to themselves that they are free…at any expense.
He was sitting with someone his age, probably a technical school dropout who started early in life as to make it big, making a career outta quick fixes and on the side opportunities, He thinks of himself as on the way of being a businessman…something like the ones depicted in movies, you know those big Beks either portrayed by an old middle aged man who looks good in a suit or by Hassan Hosni. The ones who have business conglomerates equally investing in manufacturing, construction, tourism and advertising all in the same time, and as if all that wasn’t enough for you, still has the time and punch to take on either drug dealing or antique smuggling.
Then a little lucky fella (probably a technical school dropout) with a heart of gold and nerves of steel would be courageous enough to bring such a superhumanly capable man down…and take his place..
That was Zika’s plan…and his ambition.
He just looked at Zika in pity…but didn’t show it, cause he wanted something from him.
No it wasn’t the three girls Zika bought in to impress, not the alcohol Zika planned on getting tonight, and not the piece of Hash in Zika’s pocket.
He wanted Muscle…not Zika of course, Zika was a get it all. You know theres always one in each town, a man who serves everyone, helps everyone go places, we howwa ma7alak serr…he thinks he is moving up in life by doing that…
Problem is, to everyone he’s just Zika..
“ So ya Bob… you only need two men” Zika asked
El Bob answered back in the affirmative, saying he likes doing things quietly. Apparently El Bob likes doing things subtly. He learnt that off his Boss…Damien King.
El Bob was supposed to rustle up a guy, who thinks he’s all that.. A nobody from the corporate world who thinks he’s going to be a CEO of a Fortune 500 by the time he’s 35, all because he’s now on a supervisory sub managerial level in the business development department of a company that sells insurance schemes to other fellow multinational company goaled execs. Of course this Wannabe CEO has a lot to brag about, with only 1 year in the company, and fresh outta sales, he just jumps into business development, daddy is an accomplished super-manager in a petroleum company, sadly enough although the company is well known, daddy really isn’t. why? the answer always said is because Daddy has a lot of unseen enemies who just for the heck of it hate good people. Most importantly, Wannabe CEO went to AUC. The only hotbed for the best education in Egypt.
El Bob doesn’t know why Damien King would be interested in rustling up the wannabe CEO, but he just follows orders, its not his job to ask questions, his job is to solve them. Of course that doesn’t deny that there always are rumors, which say it’s for an old friend dear to his heart…
It was quite an alluring place, dim and large, however all the tables were set in an intertwined manner creating a false but convincing feeling of privacy on each table. The lighting did wonders to the place, subtle yellow spotlights very generously placed all over the place, some of them dangling on threads like the thread you would find on a Christmas tree. All yellow, all same color, boring, but the repetition was what made it beautiful.
The entire place was smoky, a good mix of tobacco, shisha and fake Cuban ( probably Honduran Cigars). You can hear the general chitchat of people having fun. The mood was like a 100- meter sprinter taking his mark. Its laid back, but you know it is only a matter of time before things really go wild. The mood was in the hands of a well dressed Disc Jokey sitting somewhere you cant see. But you can tell he has his eye on every table in the place, for his choice of music was very reactive to the mood the people were in.
To anyone walking in, it would look like you went into the only place in town that would cater to the bigwigs of the underworld, A few Commissiongeyya here and there, your local drug dealers, pimp ring leaders and dirty cops, maybe even a couple of public officials and a Governor’s chief of staff.
All the cities vices, it’s corrupt power out for a night, all in one place…
That’s what it would seem, but as we all love our imaginations to get the best of us, here was his take on the crowd:
Your crowd was a regular combination of fat suits surrounded by cheap beauty, a couple of young execs planning on having mad fun in a place away from their regular choice of venues, a couple of other guys feeling this is the beginning of a great social life to come when they managed to enter a place like that, and some unfortunate babes looking for a false sense of freedom, a freedom they yearn for and wrongly believe its been taken away from them, they’d stop at nothing to exercise it and prove to themselves that they are free…at any expense.
He was sitting with someone his age, probably a technical school dropout who started early in life as to make it big, making a career outta quick fixes and on the side opportunities, He thinks of himself as on the way of being a businessman…something like the ones depicted in movies, you know those big Beks either portrayed by an old middle aged man who looks good in a suit or by Hassan Hosni. The ones who have business conglomerates equally investing in manufacturing, construction, tourism and advertising all in the same time, and as if all that wasn’t enough for you, still has the time and punch to take on either drug dealing or antique smuggling.
Then a little lucky fella (probably a technical school dropout) with a heart of gold and nerves of steel would be courageous enough to bring such a superhumanly capable man down…and take his place..
That was Zika’s plan…and his ambition.
He just looked at Zika in pity…but didn’t show it, cause he wanted something from him.
No it wasn’t the three girls Zika bought in to impress, not the alcohol Zika planned on getting tonight, and not the piece of Hash in Zika’s pocket.
He wanted Muscle…not Zika of course, Zika was a get it all. You know theres always one in each town, a man who serves everyone, helps everyone go places, we howwa ma7alak serr…he thinks he is moving up in life by doing that…
Problem is, to everyone he’s just Zika..
“ So ya Bob… you only need two men” Zika asked
El Bob answered back in the affirmative, saying he likes doing things quietly. Apparently El Bob likes doing things subtly. He learnt that off his Boss…Damien King.
El Bob was supposed to rustle up a guy, who thinks he’s all that.. A nobody from the corporate world who thinks he’s going to be a CEO of a Fortune 500 by the time he’s 35, all because he’s now on a supervisory sub managerial level in the business development department of a company that sells insurance schemes to other fellow multinational company goaled execs. Of course this Wannabe CEO has a lot to brag about, with only 1 year in the company, and fresh outta sales, he just jumps into business development, daddy is an accomplished super-manager in a petroleum company, sadly enough although the company is well known, daddy really isn’t. why? the answer always said is because Daddy has a lot of unseen enemies who just for the heck of it hate good people. Most importantly, Wannabe CEO went to AUC. The only hotbed for the best education in Egypt.
El Bob doesn’t know why Damien King would be interested in rustling up the wannabe CEO, but he just follows orders, its not his job to ask questions, his job is to solve them. Of course that doesn’t deny that there always are rumors, which say it’s for an old friend dear to his heart…
*koff koff* Damien King has no heart.
People like King tend to do that, appear cold and ruthless, but then have these truly genuine acts of kindness to old friends, where pen and paper do not govern his dealings with them. They are below the bottom line, it doesn’t apply to them.
El Bob, never gets it, his only analysis would be these people remind him of a good age long gone, when things were simple, and pleasant…
He’d probably do anything to get them back, and this is his chance to re-live them.
El Bob leaves the unnamed ambiently lighted club full of plastic pleasure, and heads out to do the job. Wannabe CEO lives in a suburban compound outside of town. Has a shiny expensive hatchback not yet parked in the driveway, right in-front of Daddy’s Japanese Saloon.
“He still hasn’t arrived ya Basha” says one of the goons to El- Bob…
El Bob lights another cigarette, while the shaabi music plays in the car. As the goons revel on the artistic beauty the late el berens 2000 has to offer, He tires to daydream about where he’s been and where he’s going…but an sms cuts his mental journey before it even begins..
“I miss you” says an SMS…
He wants to meet her today, probably everyday if he can…why endure the bitter when you can constantly enjoy the sweet…he hopes he can be done early to go see her..
A couple of repeats of “7anan el 2om” on the busted cassette player and 6 cigarettes later, wannabe CEO appears on the horizon in his hatchback..
“ Amrekani ya Basha?” the goon asks?
El Bob nods…
Both Goons, both with lengthy criminal records and fewer arrests stand in the driveway with a two very thick and quite long nababeet, they smile sheepishly until the headlights land on their faces only to reveal an identical menacing expression on either goon’s face.
“ Mat Wasa3 ya Roo7 Omak, dah garage!” yells the CEO wannabe..
No response…
He meets it with two honks..
Nothing, they don’t even budge.
He dismounts from his vehicle, and walks slowly to them in a commandeering way,
“3amel 3abeet inta we howwa wala eh? Yalla ma3 el salama men hena”
Nothing…
The guy walks back to his car, puts it into gear with his leg still on the clutch, he gives it a couple of loud revs, and then lets the clutch go…
The Car pounces to where the couple are standing, they both veer out of the way very gracefully for their size, one of them manages to land his naboot on the left tail light, smashing it to bits…
Wannabe CEO leaves the car infuriated and lunges to one of them, declaring beat to a pulp first, ask questions later. His plans were foiled when the other Naboot landed fiercely on the center of his back right between the shoulder blades…
He collapsed to the floor in pain, and rolled over with his back to the asphalt, the other naboot landed on his left knee.
“aadi el debreyaj ya ibn el weskha… wadi el banzeen ya kos omaha”, then on the other knee..
The problem with broken knees is that there is never blood, but it renders your leg useless for a good nine months, with both broken, that’s a good nine months in a wheelchair.
The Goons then took turns on anything breakable on the hatchbacks exterior…headlights, tail lights, mirrors, windshield, and the hood.
“ Mobaylek feen ya 7elwa?”
The cripple on the floor complied instantly indicating it was in his left breast pocket, they kept beating him on the pocket until they heard it smash…of course every time they did, he would wail in pain..
“ HOSH!! Balash dawsha ya Marra, inti eeh? Betewledi?”
CRACK CRACK
“We 3amelli feeha Dakar?”
CRACK
The Cripple now close to passing out was dragged to rest his back on the left front tire of his car, this is where El Bob stepped in.
He first slapped him on the face, telling him this is for the attitude he gave them. He then proceeded to warn him not to come close to the woman again..
When he asked which woman exactly, he was freshened up again to recall.
He was then given a nice, simple but effective monologue that if his parents and the government both failed to raise him properly, they will gladly do the job in their free time. They hope this reminds him how vulnerable he could be, and hope he has been humbled by the experience.
A few weeks later, Zika was picked up by an unnamed police officer in plainclothes and bought in for questioning. He claimed he was solicited to commit aggravated assault by a man simply known as El Bob.. his description was not so tall, not so short, jet black wavy hair, with small eyes, and a good athletic build, fair complexion for your average Egyptian skin tones, didn’t say much, he actually looked like Tommy Vercetti from GTA vice city.., always in dirty jeans, a leather sweater and navy blue sneakers with white soles. He walked as if he were dancing to a tune in his head and rarely smiled..
That night, Zika didn’t show up at home, his cohorts thought the authorities never released him, so didn’t bother to report him as missing.
A few days later an unidentified male fitting Zika’s description was found in a ditch by the Cairo Alex Desert highway, ba3d el Karta be meteen metr..
After examination at the coroners office, exact cause of death was attributed to blunt force trauma to the cranium causing internal hemorrhage caused by a blunt instrument. Other injuries include a ruptured anal sphincter a broken left forefinger and index finger. Sand was also found in his lungs and larynx which indicated attempted suffocation.
Case Closed, Two Wannabe Rockstars outta the game, one dead, one incapacitated from the knees downwards.
And the lesson learned?
If you are opening act at a concert, make sure that the audience gets the impression you are just opening act, Your main event will come…only not in this gig…
Keep Rockin….like a boat
Keep Rollin…with the punches..
Your time will come…
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