The Indecent Proposal

Some time ago, Cuz (the Catholic taxi driver turned accountant) offered to give me an apartment in an attempt to get back in.  I declined because though I could see being the mistress of a discreetly but honestly polygamous man, I’m not going to be the life support system of a failing monogamy.  I’m also not willing to share with a whore or to be the unwitting catalyst to a divorce scam.  If she wants to take his property, I’m not going to help her to do it.

She has already tried to get paperwork to the effect of his and his parents’ property passing to herself exclusively rather than to her sons in the event of their and/or his death.  This is a woman who would take bread from the mouths of her children when she is already stuffed.  I wouldn’t put the neck of a man I cared for at all, under the hatchet of a harpy.

I am however, happy to keep in touch with him as, for some strange reason, I give him some “alpha cred” that keeps her putting out despite their physical incompatibility.  The smell of me is still all around them in a subconscious sense.  His parents and a couple of his trusted friends know we were seeing each other while they were separated, but they haven’t told her.  So they and he knows he can do better.  She’s hustling to try to keep her place.

Meanwhile, he has upped the ante.  At the moment, I’m working from the lobby I share with LE.  Whenever he’s in town, it’s his office.  When he’s not, so as not to suffocate from the fumes of Fimo and lacquer, the window has to stay open, and Wizard and I are shoo-ing cats constantly.  We need a studio.  Cuz thinks he’s going to come to the rescue.

He actually expects me to allow him to pay to rent a place on Massada St. (the alternative area of town) for our workshop/studio/store.  In his fantasies, this would bring us closer, and I wouldn’t be able to resist his charms.

Because I’m not a whore, such a gesture would endear him to me a little too much, and I wouldn’t be able to keep a professional distance and string him along.  It’s not so much that I’d feel obligated so much as taken care of.  Especially since leashing my inner bitch, I like being taken care of.  Yes, please do be concerned enough about my wellbeing to put your money where your mouth is.

…but not if it’s going to put you at risk of a thief.

This is a small country, and as big as Haifa might seem, it’s a kind of small town.  News travels fast.  We could do everything right and not shag each other, but if someone thinks we might be, the news is going to get back to her.

This is difficult for a couple of reasons.  First, because I care about him as a human being, and not just one part of him.  I would constantly worry about inadvertently causing harm to him and his children.  Second, because he is exactly my physical type, it will be really really hard for me not to flirt at all.  My mouth could be saying one thing, but my eyes another, and well…

So the whole thing is just best avoided.  I’ll just keep saying no until he gives up.

Wizard says I should just go on and let him pay, but I think it’s just because he hasn’t met Cuz yet.  One of Cuz’s arms is like one of Wiz’s legs.  If Cuz decides we’re going to do it, we’re going to do it.  I think Wiz is thinking “big and tall” in narrow-butt average Israeli terms.  Cuz is a freak of nature compared to most guys here.  In the dark, one would think he was Black like deep south break a bitch in half Black…like my ex husband.

So he’s a dangerous guy to tease, and I’m not doing it.  Maybe he’ll stop trying to get me an apartment and bring me some Saint Anthony statues instead.

In other news, my protege called to let me know he’s okay.  He’s 20 and in the army now. I’m glad he’s well, and hope that continues to be the case.  Things are happening, and Egypt seems to be headed for a civil war.  The instability could mean that certain things that were being looked after, won’t be.

We’re not sure how things are going to turn out, but the way things were wasn’t good for Egypt at all.  The poverty was way too widespread and way too deep.  The government figured they could keep control of things by jailing and torturing people en masse, but when people feel they have nothing to lose from fighting back, they fight back.

Facing death every day forces people into a martial state more than even meditating on death daily like a samurai.  When the government presses people beyond a reasonable tolerance, they think they are oppressing them, but what they’re really doing is training them to become revolutionaries.

Those who benefit from the system and conform are the untrained and ill equipped.  Those who ran afoul of the system and survived the consequences become stronger, and if they breed, pass this to their children.  How ever many generations it takes, sooner or later, it will break, and the stronger warriors will win.

People who lived in tombs or learned to live without much if any infrastructure between the desert rocks aren’t afraid to lose their pension.


My pronouns are whatever you're comfortable with as long as you speak to me with respect. I'm an Afruikan and Iswa refugee living in Canaan. That's African American expat in Israel in Normalian. I build websites, make art, and assist people in exercising their spirituality. I'm also the king of an ile, Baalat Teva, a group of African spirituality adherents here. Feel free to contact me if you are in need of my services or just want to chat.

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