How I became a Dubai shit show PT I
LostItGirl explains how to ravage your life in the same manner as so many visitors (both tourists and residents) in Dubai. It’s not that hard to do – it can’t be as 80% of the people there do it, but it’s definitely worth reading about…
Where do I start?
I’d already been in Dubai for three days, and on the third day four of my UK friends (Mike, Alex, Pandora and Hunter – yes, Hunter out of The Gladiators, who in all of our eyes is a fckin hero/legend) joined me, my brother, my PA JJ, and two of my friends – who can only be described as angels. They work in the first class area for Emirates and they are groomed to the extent of a pair of Harper’s Bazaar models. They carry themselves in the manner of a pair of 1940’s screen stars. For the purposes of this blog we will call them Natalie and Heather. Because that’s what they are called.
It’s always been mind boggling to me why two angels that never drop their graces would want to hang out with my brother, who is basically a male version of me, the prick. Anyway they’ve imprinted on us both now, and what can I say? Most people do.
They are both secret LostItGirls at heart anyway. Just not in public.
We decided to dine at my old favourite, the Armani-Amal.
Dinner was lovely, and every 30 minutes we would go out to the balcony to watch the Dubai fountains. The food was exquisite and the company was of a very high standard. That was until the bill.
Hunter has the body of a Greek mythological character, and this can only be achieved with a strict diet. I fully respect that. Sadly, Indian food and spicy food does not come as a part of this plan. It’s similar to me when I go to a venue that doesn’t serve sugar-free gluten-free low-carb organic Quinoa. I like to diva it up, so I’ll throw a napkin or whatever, flick my hair and leave without paying.
But Hunter’s version of that was to flip up the whole damn table with one hand like the Incredible Hulk.
When the bill came we all decided to just split it evenly because I’m not one to be seen with a calculator. I mean my brother and I didn’t have starters and Natalie didn’t have alcohol but does this matter? Do we care? Nah lets just split it evenly.
But poor Hunter hadn’t actually eaten his meal because the waiters didn’t understand his request: “Can I get the chicken curry without the curry and hold the spices and also I don’t want the chicken grilled but actually just boiled…”
I mean it’s a simple request but one they didn’t quite understand. So at bill time he decided to yell at the waiter then flip up the table and leave. It was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. My two Emirates girl pals went flying across the room, champagne flutes shattered, that green sauce stuff you get with a starter covered us all, it was more of a show than the Dubai fountains. It was freakin awesome.
It was a wonderful night, mostly because Pandora and I looked well hot.
***Part or all of this story is either made up or exaggerated.
I have an interest in all things music, and I was in the mood to make some new friends. I listen to a radio station in the taxi each time I go to Dubai, and I have this mild obsession with two of the presenters. I wanted to meet them so I got my friend/PA JJ to arrange this.
Sadly only one of the two turned up. It was the shit one. He was a fckin dream boat though and I loved him. That was a pretty respectable night and super fun.
The next night he said he would take me to see DJ Snake. The mind boggles at how DJ Snake is able to produce such laid back numbers such as his current one ‘Middle’, or the biggest song of 2015 ‘Lean on’ and then cause you to fckin break shit at his live shows. Anyway, dream boat radio dude brought along a load of radio mates, including one I instantly fell in love with.
He was tall and his face was near on perfect. He was from somewhere called Sri Lanka (no idea?). In my mind it sounded super chic but apparently it’s third world. Anyway despite him not being British he somehow managed to get my jokes and cutting edge wit, which is always a bonus.
We’ve been over this many times on LostItGirl, it is imperative that the person is attracted to your personality, because guess what? Looks fck off with time, personality does not. So this is the only way to win someone over and stand a chance of keeping them – with a gr8 personality.
We got on super well from what I remember and we left DJ Snake to go to a house party. I use the word house party loosely. It took a long time to find the house which obviously will bore me instantly. Then the host made me a drink and some shit show bird was spraying Mr Muscle about and I felt like some of it went in my drink so presumed the host was trying to poison me. At least I think that’s how it went, my memory is vague. I just recall wondering why they were trying to roofie me with Mr Muscle.
But I drank it anyway. We sat out talking on the balcony until 6am then I was like:
“Errr… let’s go back to yours.”
He said: “We can’t, I live with my sister and I respect her so I don’t take girls back.”
Once my brother and I lived together for a while and we both used to bring home all manner of drills pretty much every week and neither of us would bat an eyelid. What, you’re not allowed to know your sibling has sex? Unclear? It’s not like I was suggesting we do it in her bed. It’s possible to maintain a healthy sex life when living with other people because you can do things like this:
- Do it in a bedroom instead of on the stairs.
- Close the door instead of leaving it wide open (unless you’re a voyeur and into that).
- Put music on.
Anyway obviously I knew this was actually just code for girlfriend so I made my way outta there.