It was really a beautiful morning in the medina. The tour through the narrow streets, the discovery of small theaters that are going back to its former glory, chats at the bar with Italy Salah, the cousous fish Mohammed Obaya .. except that, after paying my half dinar to the parking lot of Green Square, I had to spend half an hour there before you can review the output, since there were no seats.
At this point, on a normal day, I returned home, but as days are sti mammadotata, I found the first free and I left the machine in full no parking, no mica. Come back my car was lying all alone on the long driveway, and as far away, but not much, you could see a nice tow, we entered a race car and we left. One hundred meters later, the shock: the policeman beckons me to approach. OCCAAZZOO!
Tato, I am a woman, that I've seen right? And I'm alone, Tattoo, I can not stop! I, I've got the mammaappresso !!!!!!!! The Committee, contrary to the rumors circulating in Libya that the brigade, although they do not stop women, is the canonical application: driver's license and manual. How suggeritomi from my dear friends, opened her eyes and pretend not to understand anything, except that the cause of many of my troubles began to give me elbow and says, fat, wants the license.
remain calm while I play a requem eternal Freud not to jump to the neck. The Committee while he shows me a license Libyan and smiles. Not I have no choice, it's time to get some 'air to my beautiful international driver's license is no longer valid. The Committee looks up, smiling and moving towards his colleague in the truck. Grim thoughts crowd my mind: I have to call Mo, BabyM back from school, even with his friend and can not find anyone at home, how much money I have, how do I get back home in time if I seize the car, but more importantly, how to fuck EDGE can I tell him that I have not made the Libyan license? I already see the scene at the police station with Mo and Fe that makes me laugh while the EDG of the irresponsible, when the Committee, always smiling, she looks at me and said: bar, bar! (Street, away!)
way home, now distraught, I say aloud, is the last time I went to Medina by car ... and my mother, why?
will be long weeks ..
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