I am in Abu Dhabi airport and I am going mad. Did not realise that I had a freaking 12 hour stop over. Not any old 12 hour stop
over, either. No, this one is through the dead of night.
Empty corridors, shiny floors, expensive leather goods, and Hari, the Nepalese guy who wants me to buy Gucci sunglasses or a Dunhill tie.
Hari was the highlight of the past 5 hours. “Dunhill tie, only $90”.
Srsly, feels like a Middle East Lost In Translation. WHERE’S MY SCARLETT JOHANSON? (Ha! Where’s my Scarlett Johanson is the most entitled thought a person can have).
Even the Burger King is shut. My lord, why hast thou forsaken me? I can’t find temporary relief in transfats? Is that where this is? This torture. Oh, great, now I am fixating on it. Melted cheese-like substance. Greasy reconstituted cow labia. Sweet ersatz baps.
Something must be done. I’ll start a pro-democracy demo just to pass the time.
*I wouldn’t normally adorn a post with a promo-picture of myself (maybe I would) but my brain is mush and these pics are new (‘These pictures just came in off the wire boss!’ ‘Stop the presses’ WHIRLY NEWSPAPERS FILL THE SCREEN.) and fuck it.