The internet cafe I am in is half-empty (since I’m feeling very negative today). The letters on the keyboard are partially erased, and the keys stick to the bottom of the keyboard each time I press them.
The internet cafe I am in is filled with half-wits, and a shining example is the lady sitting in the booth behind me, video-chatting with her brother.
“Koya? Koya? Do you hear me?” She is the type who pronounces “kuya” as “koya” (kuya=brother). She has the shrillest voice in the whole of Qatar, possibly the universe.
“Koya? Can you hear me? Can you hear me? No? Can you hear me now? You can’t hear me? Why can’t you hear me? Hello? Hello? Koya? Can you hear me?”
She has been repeating this mantra for the past 42 minutes. I am NOT exaggerating, because this computer has a timer, and ever since I’ve been here she hasn’t said anything but variations of the sentences above.
“Koya? Koya? Where are you? Where are you? Can you hear me? Can you see me? I can see you… why can’t you see me?”
What I would like to do, at this very moment, is to walk over to where she is sitting, take her by the shoulders, and shake her senseless till she loses consciousness. Then I will take over her computer terminal and suggest to her brother that they quit using the video chat since obviously, they do not hear, see or understand each other. One hour in an internet cafe costs 10 Qatari riyals – they could have talked about so many things by now.
“Ok, ok, can you hear me? Koya, can you hear me now? Can you see me? Hello? Hello?”
The reality is that I have more important things to do with my time than to blog about the irritating woman in the booth behind me, but I am so taken by anger and frustration at her shrill voice and useless video-chatting. But I know that I will not do anything about it, being the pacifist that I am. I know that I will continue to sit here, smouldering in anger, cursing her silently in mind, thinking up delightful ways to torture her, until my timer starts blinking to indicate that I have only 5 minutes of internet time left, then I will go up to the counter, pay the fee, roll my eyes at her, and leave. I know this is what will happen because I know myself so well in situations such as these.
“Koya? Koya? Where are you, are you in Dubai or Kuwait? Koya? Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? Why can’t you hear me?”
If he cannot hear you, I mutter in my mind, how do you expect an answer to the question ‘Why can’t you hear me?’
It is taking all the courage in the world to not hurl myself over the booth and start clawing at her face.
Currently listening to:
Yo La Tengo
Summer Sun
