As habit would have it, Choo8i would go out on a job hunt on odd mornings every week, in effort to put his degree to use; see, he has a degree in comunication engineering, the diploma is only a few meters off the corner where I live. Quite dusty, and apparently useless nowadays, but there. Today is one of those days; he got up early, shaved and dressed up in his best button shirt and pants—straightened creatively rather than ironed, for the lack of electricity, and for the fact that his feeble generator wouldn’t support an iron. He simply sprayed them with water and hung them out to dry in the shade, the heat took care of the rest. So, he spiffed-up, sprayed on a ton of cologne, picked up a meager file containing his diploma and CV, and off he went.
But after a few hours’ absence, which I used to increase my food-stock from a variety of crumbs and stray sugar crystals, Choo8i came back somewhat frustrated and fuming. I would know, because I could hear him calling everybody an Ibn Kalb, among other unflattering names, while he went off to shower. It’s only logical to deduce that his search for a job was fruitless, as it had been for the past few months since he got fired from Iraqna.
I overheard plenty of conversations regarding that latter part, and from the bits and pieces, I concluded that apparently, Choo8i’s boss had replaced him with his newest conquest—a girl. And according to Choo8i, the girl might be mu7ajjaba and all proper-looking, but she’s a well-rounded tramp. I wouldn’t trust Choo8i’s judgment in that area, given his prejudice regarding being fired on short notice, and given that his replacement’s degree didn’t qualify her for the job. But then, from the bits and pieces, it sure sounds rather suspicious to me. And when I eventually heard that the ‘tramp’ was replaced by another ‘tramp’ who was better looking; whiter and blonder, I started seeing Choo8i’s point of view. Though I began wondering how he’s gotten the job in the first place…
At any rate, by the time Choo8i came back in his dishdasha, showered and all, he was still murmuring audibly, about one specific “zmal” who turned down his application regardless of being more than qualified for the job. The details of that I only overheard a while later, when Choo8i decided to pick the phone and fume to his best friend, Mazin:
-*I obviously can’t hear Mazin, but I’m assuming he said hello!*
-Lak you don’t know what happened to me today!
-Lak today I went looking for a job, and stopped by ***** company; I heard they had a vacancy for a telecommunication engineer. Anyway, so they interviewed me and il Kalb ibn il Kalb turned me down!!!
-Lak laaa! I wish! You what he said? Someone had already applied for the job! W tali when I was leaving, his secretary, probably his girlfriend or whatever, bragged about how I shouldn’t insist about getting the job; he’s granted it to his cousin, ibn il zmal!! *And here, Choo8i lost it and explored new depths of profanity unfamiliar to man…*
-*And here I assume Mazin participated in the profane expedition…*
From that conversation, I assumed people in that office were all a bit ‘in your face’ regarding how and why they’re employed; it’s better for Choo8i not to have gotten the job. But he was very pissed, nonetheless.
Right now, he’s still fuming on the phone, despite the 3awya network and the occasional profanity regarding the bad reception. He’s gone down the list of his friends from the most-favorite, and he’s now in the middle of the list, talking to someone he doesn’t like so much, only to fume and let it out. Apparently determined to run out his phone credit.
Meanwhile, I should go have a nap—I won’t be missing out on his raving, he’s been at it for a couple of hours and could well be at it for a few hours yet.