The first time around, I zipped through immigration. This time, very early the morning of June 24th, I was standing for at least an hour. Behind were two British girls trying very hard to get my attention. I had to move really close to the lady in front of me to keep the one from brushing against me.
“I heard prostitution was all over here, but at the airport?” howled the InMo.
I eventually made it through, as cheerful as I could be. No one is happy when traveling and it throws off the customs dudes to just let you in. Not that I was hiding anything but I really wanted to sleep in a real bed.
I arrived late at the Metropolitan Palace, which was nice enough. It was in a crappy area, but I had an air-conditioned king sized bed and rooftop pool at my disposal.
I slept late the next day. Like midafternoon late. I bummed about the room. I watched movies on the TV. I did some chnepring. I went downstairs to get some food, but they were only serving drinks. Huh. Too bad.
1 manhattan, 2 purple death tootsie rolls, and an absinth later, I went upstairs to the pool. I fell asleep until the sun was low in the hazy middle eastern afternoon.
Well, now I gotta take care of some business, i thought
My beloved Olympus of the past three years had died on me that day in Preveli. That’s why there’s no pictures. But it did happen. I swear.
I went off to the City Centre mall and visited every electronics shop. For about $190 bucks I found a great little camera with a gig xD card thrown in for free.
“I love this place,” cooed the InMo.
With my new camera bought, I had some time to kill. I turned a corner and saw my answer.
“Excuse me. Which movies are in English?”
“All of them sir.”
I scanned the posters behind the counter.
“What? No Spidey?”
I jumped to the wall next to me, kicked off with my right foot, spun around, made a fist but extended my index and pinky fingers with my palm facing up.
The theatre attendant blinked.
“I’ll take one for Ocean’s 13,” I sighed.
Attempting to walk into the theatre I was stopped. The show was not starting for another half hour.
Out of the corner of my eye, a sight from years ago, an old friend whom I knew very well was standing there; right out of the blue.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. I hadn’t seen him in years, and there he was stoic and lonely in a movie theatre in Dubai.
I popped in a Dirham and began blasting aliens. Little Arab kids crowded around me with oohs and ahs, and young girls with braces fainted as I no-looked the helicopter on level two.
Actually, A51 was out of order. Jurassic Park III and VirtuaCop were the only shooters. I took my chances with J3. Two credits into the first level, a big stegosaurus demanded two more credits. I hung my head in shame and made my way to the theatre.
The move was a good distraction, but that was about it. I suppose they coulda really thrown a spanner in the works if they failed or something, but there was no, ‘how’d they do that’ surprise like the the last two. It was more, ‘huh. Brad Pitt is a bad ass.’
I’d barely spent any time outside in the sweaty Dubai weather, but even at night as I waited for a cab, it was frickin hot.
I walked back into the hotel and decided it was time to knock another country off The List.
The very first karaoke bar in in Dubai, remains to this day one of the only ones. Keep in mind, I only know what I found out from teh intarwebs and with the help of the concierge.
It was in a hotel—as are all the bars in Dubai—he Hyatt Regency to be exact.
I’m sure I’ve stayed at a Hyatt Regency somewhere, but this one was pretty nice.
And I’ve sung Karaoke lots of places. All over the States, London, Tokyo, Macau, and Nairobi, but, man, was there a good collection of singers at this little spot in Dubai. I did a little Roger Miller’s King of the Road, Billy Joel’s You May Be Right, The Beatles’ Twist & Shout, and of course the ultimate classic, Bonnie Tyler’s Total Eclipse of the Heart.
I made some friends who were flight attendants and had too much Johnnie Black.
I went to bed fairly early.
The next day, I had to go get some snow.