DIRT: the grunge diaries (𝒱𝒾𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝒾𝒶'𝓈 𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃)

entry #134 - owner of a wounded heart

After Sean grabbed my hand, and we started to walk down the road hand in hand, my Bonneville abandoned behind our backs... we debated about what to do until rehearsals o'clock, and we decided to spend some time at a local suq... I mean, mall, because this is Denver, and sadly not Al-Quds. Y'know, to grab breakfast for lunch that he won't pay for, and to blow some money on stupid stuff while we're at it. I have already bought myself two new dresses and a shearling winter coat, and in quality of the business oriented, Palestinian person that I am, even if my boyfriend doesn't know it just yet, I negotiated the price so that the whole bundle only costed me a mere fifty bucks. Of course Sean wanted to do the caregiver and pay for everything, but I kindly told him to go fuck himself, and thankfully enough, he stuck with it, no big fuss whatsoever. I got away with a smack on the ass and a 'you're gonna pay for this, and I ain't talking about your stuff'... and straight after that 'fair warning', I went putty, and we found ourselves making out in the nearest available restroom. Only when I was leaning against the wall, his hands were into my top and our tongues were entwined, I realised how much I fucking needed him inside of me again... but we didn't do the deed on the spot, although we were both kinda well lit up. We just kissed, touched, made resolutions to find a moment to play one on one after the soundcheck... and I honestly can't wait for it. But we have a busy day ahead of us, and I decided to put a damper on my horniness for a good reason. Getting fooood, the fuel that will keep us going through yet another eventful day on the road !

We emerged back from the restroom with two cheeky grins, still hand in hand, and very fucking loved up. We took a stroll around the mall, and the second store we visited was an electronics one. Why an electronics store, you'd like to ask me? Because I am tired of eating American crap day and night, I wanna cook my own meals ... and my boyfriend's too! At least once a day! I'll even cook meat for him, if meat is what he wants! Plus, I have plans to throw a party to celebrate my success, tonight, and I really do wanna do the Palestinian host, cheerful and generous, and make delish, celebratory Palestinian food for all of my guests! I'm Palestinian from the West Bank, and even if the West Bank is not a restaurant, my 'house' can turn into a full blown restaurant, on occasion. Even if when I say 'house', these days, I mean a poolside view hotel room in the US. One day, insh'allah, all of my peeps will come to Bethlehem with me, and I'll get the fine china and the Jericho dates out for them... but until that day comes, I will be the fucking best host in the world no matter where I'll be bound, at any given time ! Mark my words !

Two hundred bucks later, I have found the portable cooker of all my dreams and fantasies, I paid it cash, under my boyfriend's horrified gaze ... but I somehow managed to keep him tame by saying that I'll cook authentic shawarma and za'atar bread for him, tonight. And oh, also by telling him that by tomorrow, after I'll get paid for my photoshoot, the money I've spent today will magically reappear in my wallet. Well not quite, the agency doesn't pay cash, and unless he gives me his bank routing number and allows a few wire transfers from a modelling agency into his account, I won't see a single buck. Still not sure whether to bring that up to him and pass as a fishy Arab thief to his eyes, because there's a chance I might as well, asking for his banking information and stuff... I just mentally scheduled the thing for later, and even thought about not bringing up to him, at all. At the end of the day, he's the person I'm the closest with, at the moment, but he isn't the only person with an American bank account I know. Actually, I am the only person with a non American bank account I know. So, I think I will ask Bessie! My queen would never, never say no, and she will never look at me and think that I'm a dishonest terrorist that wants to get to her savings. Girls stand with girls, always !

I just shrugged my thoughts off me, and I decided to do the humorous girlfriend instead: Sean was pushing the shopping cart, full of my purchases, and I was walking right beside him, hand well hooked around his forearm. We walked past a barber store, and I suggested him to go in there and get a haircut. He gave me as good as he got from me, he pointed at a hairdresser store right in front of us... and suggested me to go in there and have my hair dyed brown. Dark brown, to be precise. Then he began to chase me, I began to run 'away' from him, and we did the silly ass lovebirds all over the mall aisle for quite a bit... until he realised he couldn't run as fast as me, and he lovingly ran me over with the shopping cart. Standard Sean & Cherry. Some people around us were entertained by our antics, some of them were horrified, someone was this close to calling the security to get us kicked out of this place... so we did the smart, and decided to take shelter at a café and enjoy some much deserved breakfast for lunch. Of course, he ordered and devoured the grossest meat ever, beer, and a large side of fries. Not very breakfast for lunch-like of him, but plain lunch was what he wanted, he got it, and I love it for him. I had poached eggs, sour yoghurt, a vegetable mix that very vaguely reminded me of fattoush, and green tea. Standard Palestinian breakfast, except that my dish was lacking basic za'atar and my tea was lacking in the mint compartment... but it was good! Good good, rich, and suitable for the skinny model girl diet!