“I was bored.”

Ah, June. School is nearly out. Everyone’s getting a little restless. Tact and congeniality fall by the wayside.

Hi Mr. H! says the Shoeless Rope-Skipper, bounding out the front door of her apartment. I read most of your blog. I was bored.

Flattered, I politely thank her.

That’s not what I meant, she says. Backpedaling, she explains that her temporary roommate had the blog up anyway, and she doesn’t normally know how to find my blog and so she went ahead and read it.



(While I’m in the process of naming characters, I shall name the temporary roommate, “Stuck at the Gate Roomie”. As I was returning to my residence this evening, I encountered Stuck at the Gate Roomie in the passenger seat of a friend’s car. A gate separates the residential area from the business area of our compound. Residents have a clicker that opens the gate. The driver of Stuck at the Gate Roomie’s car did not have a clicker, as the driver was a non-resident, despite having parked in residential parking. Now the temporary roommate has a nickname.)

Thinking of nothing better to say, I point out the obvious: You’re skipping rope and not wearing shoes. May I take a picture and then blog about it?

She approves.

Really? I ask, excitedly. Perhaps I’m bored.

Sure!

I run inside to fetch my camera. Strangely, my evening has just gotten better.

While inside, I grab the King Thumper Version that Rainbow Sock Man pawned off on me. I figure Southpaw would be proud.

Yes, life in North Africa is as bizarre as it seems.