One Day and SO Many Surprises!!!

  Zahir was called into an emergency meeting with all the other Department heads. He did not know how long it would be so he asked his friend "J" if his house boy David (Dah Veed) could take me to dinner. I occasionally feel isolated being American, Christian, and Gay. David has me beat, he is Israeli, Jewish (not practicing), and VERY effeminately gay. I think that last part is why Zahir "trusts" me with him. Compared to him, I am Zahir.

 David confuses me. He is happy to be J's house boy, but does not stay faithful to him. He says J doesn't mind. David is one of the few non-family friends I have here. Zahir gave him money to get me fed "something fattening." David has his own car, as soon as we got in, he donned his hot pink and black keffiyeh around his neck and took off like a bat outta hell.

The OTHER reason I like Books@Cafe

We went to our favorite bookstore, Books@Cafe off Rainbow Street on First Circle. I got the "All American BACON Cheeseburger" and a piece of cake. the "bacon" was BEEF bacon, so close but not quite. Still, I am aiming at a two pound weight gain this week. The roof terrace has an amazing view. David got a salad and beer. Yes, there are micro-brews in Jordan. I like this place. I think David comes on Thursday nights to pick up hot guys.

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 More House Hunting...
 

 After dinner Zahir and I picked up Baba and Mama. We had a meeting with the estate agent (realtor).  He wanted to show us a few apartments in Campbell Gray Living. It's in what's being billed as the new downtown for Amman.
 

 Mama excitedly whispered to me, "We can go shopping without leaving the building!" Abdali is a planned high-rise community. Unlike the Jordan Gate project, it's funding is secure. Jordan Gate shear walls of glass these buildings have inserts of marble to break up the glare. The Abdali Project reminds me of Miami. Mixed-use buildings everywhere, with high-end shopping and high-rises which is something new for Amman.
 

 The one word that comes to mind when I think of Amman Jordan is sprawl. Lots of low 3-4 story buildings. The Abdali area is something new, buildings with 30 or more floors. That leads us to my nemesis. Elevators... I hate being in elevators.
 
 I know it's all in my head. I know it's stupid, but I know that damn cable is going to snap and I'll plummet in it to my death.  Keeping in mind I know that the steel cables in the elevator are thicker than the little nylon ropes that hold my parachute to me. I do understand which one is safer statistically.
 
 It's hard to believe when you're walking through Abdali that you're still in Amman. Zahir took me to the mall last December. It was odd seeing so many Christmas decorations up. Zahir even got my picture taken with Santa. For the record I was not sitting in Santa's lap.
 
 We toured a few more, but Mama was still gushing about the first. Then Zahir took Baba and Mama home.

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Surprise...
 
 We are driving home from Z's big surprise. A trip to the doctor.
 
 The standard biographical data was taken when we arrived. Zahir as always did all of the talking. Things like this I am the prized puppy to be talked about, and not to. He told me to take off my shirt and he removed the dressing from my sun burnt, burn scar. it pinched as he lightly pulled on the surrounding skin. "Good elasticity, he is an excellent candidate."

 He said he could perform the procedure in the office with just a local. Then he screwed up. While checking my pulse on the carotid artery his thumb grazed my Adams apple. I freaked raising my hands into a protective stance. Z stepped in to calm me. Then he and the doctor had a harried exchange. The doctor apologized for startling me. Then he repeated that I was a good candidate again. However it would be better if I was under general anesthesia. 

I asked Zahir, "A candidate for what?" He and the doctor bickered. The doctor addressed me saying how one does NOT surprise the patient with surgery... then he glared at Zahir. The doctor explained scar revision to me and how the damaged tissue could be cut away and re-sutured to form a smaller line that hopefully follows and fades into the crease under the pectoral muscle.

 I once told Zahir how one of my foster brothers teased me calling my ovalish cigarette lighter burn my third nipple. He remembered! The doctor told me repeated burns put me at risk for skin cancer as well, so removal was the wise choice.
 
 Next week I have my first and hopefully only cosmetic procedure.
 

 Chase