It must have been an hour already. She kept looking at her watch, then at the door, then at the lady sitting at the shabby desk near the door with a large plaque in front of her with a badly written “Receptionist”. It will be the twelfth time – or maybe thirteenth, she stopped counting – when she will ask her, “When did the doctor say he was coming?” Only to receive the expected answer mentioned numerous time, “Soon in Sha’ Allah.”
Whether or not one believed in Allah, a moment like this one would make one re-consider!
She looked lazily around for something to attract her attention and hopefully absorb maybe five boring minutes of waiting. But the bare walls and the tiny ceiling windows didn’t reveal much chance of deserving more than a single instant of attention. Her eyes kept wandering from the wall to the ceiling unstopped by the cobwebs and cracks in the paint. The dull outlook of the clinic didn’t even allow her to fall into her own thoughts.
A magazine left on the side table managed to catch her attention about three times over the last hour. That’s a record for a poorly printed chick-flick magazine dated five years ago. But the boredom and the anticipated long wait left her desperate even for this small distraction which might last ten whole minutes – maybe even more – when she tries to leaf through the magazine and do it as slowly as possible. It may even last a whole thirty minutes if she managed to keep her attention on one page for an entire duration of twenty seconds.
Removing the dust off the cover, she read the cover titles with hardly much interest.
“Sherine admits to her third plastic surgery and reveals the name of the miracle doctor”
“Dina’s hottest night ever … with photos from the actual event”
“Five ways to lose weight without black circles around your eyes”
“Problems with bugs and ants at home? Here’s a homemade recipe for the rescue”
This last title did catch her attention for an entire minute and she even went to the index to find that it’s nearly the last topic. Great, she thought! It promised maybe even an additional twenty minutes of entertainment if she read really slowly.
The first article after the index was hopeless, without even a single picture to keep her attention. She skipped it in less than five seconds; aware that this could mean fifteen seconds of additional boredom she needs to handle eventually. The second article was titled, “You’re not alone … they also suffered from domestic violence.” It had two photos of women – eyes covered of course – with apparent signs of beating and one was in cast. She started reading about what’s going on in the world:
“Hanaa is a graduate from high school and her parents arranged her marriage to the neighbor’s son who was five years older but working in a respectable job in the factory….” And it went on.
She found herself absorbed in the story and thinking to herself internally, “Wow, I’m glad this is not me! The world is so evil out there!”
The next page had a lot of photos with the title, “Your Guide to the Season’s Hottest New Fashion … Blue and Yellow on the driving seat.” The first photo had a super-slim model in a blue dress with a yellow collar and belt. She found herself thinking, “Last time I bought a dress was five years ago. But this one is really nice. I wonder if they have the name of the store.”
She hardly noticed when someone called out, “Oh my God, they should stop talking about Sherine’s doctor.” She lifted her eyes off the magazine to discover, to her amazement, that there’s a new creature sitting very close to her on the same couch peeping into her magazine. The two ladies looked at one another with some amusement and animosity. She was surprised by the interruption, but even more surprised that the heading on the cover had attracted someone’s attention even five years later! “I didn’t get to this part yet,” she answered the intruder a bit shyly; catching herself also becoming excited about the topic in a strange way. “But you must have heard of the story! I mean it’s not new, but this is really invasive to talk like this about stars and their personal life!” The intruder insisted, while she was wondering how to get out of this forced conversation. So she decided to go back to reading – or watching the photos.
“This fashion is so outdated! I might as well have kept my mother’s old dresses,” the intruder obviously insisted on the interruption. However, she found in this an element of anger as well since she had really liked that blue and yellow dress just a moment ago. “Old fashions keep coming back but with a lot of nice touches,” she was intending on forcing the intruder out of her magazine and making her own choices about what to wear. “I can understand that sometimes, but look at this blue and yellow dress! Wouldn’t it have been nicer if it were without these wide sleeves for example?” She hadn’t exactly noticed the sleeves in particular – she liked the dress as a whole and particularly the collar. Now that she noticed this, she became a little embarrassed to have thought she wanted to buy it a short while back. However, it was not defeat yet, “That’s true, but you must admit this collar here is unmatched and very sylish.” The intruder apparently found her way in by this point, “Yes, but it’s much nicer on that other dress there with the narrow short sleeve. See, they only needed to fix the sleeve to make it nicer.”
She didn’t like that dress at all, “But the color is horrible. It must be a color-blind person to take in this puky yellow!!!!” She was not going to leave the ground so easily.
“Never mind the color,” the intruder continued, “You always have strange colors in magazines because of the printing and cheap paper. But look at this third dress and its gorgeous belt. Wow!”
The belt was too flashy and far too big for the slim dress from her perspective, but the dress itself was nice, “I prefer that dress to the one before it of course. The belt is certainly not my style.”
“Why not,” the intruder questioned, “You don’t look fifty years old, you have to try these young trendy fashions my love, otherwise youth departs you. This is made for us, if we don’t wear it nobody will!”
She hated to be called out-of-fashion so she threw the last bullet back at the intruder, “I wouldn’t wear something that’s five years old! This magazine issue dates back five years.” She felt so victorious that she could hardly contain her thrill and simply had to smile in the face of the intruder who found herself stuck in a corner due to her outdatedness and inability to differentiate between seasons of fashion. But she wasn’t going to lose the war just because she lost a battle.
“Belts are in and out of fashion all the time! One day they say wear large thick belts, the next day they’re sitting at the hips, the following they are at the chest. It’s impossible to follow it all, but it’s important to wear something you like. But forget about fashion, did you notice this model’s haircut? She must have really bad hair so it sticks out so much.” The intruder was insisting on gaining back her grounds.
She looked at the haircut and didn’t find it particularly amusing. But the necklace caught her attention, “The necklace she’s wearing is something! I wonder who makes these strange necklaces for fashion shows?”
“They’re made by the designers themselves, of course,” the intruder went on, “but they’re always hard to find. It’s impossible to find good jewelry in Egypt if you’re not filthy rich!”
“This is so true,” she admitted passionately, “looking for a nice necklace or earrings is very difficult! There must be a way to make them cheaper or else we’ll all have to start learning to make our own jewelry.”
Amid the heated conversation the door was opened and the long-awaited doctor rushed directly inside the inner room. The bored lady at the reception pointed to her, “Your turn ma’am.”
She looked at the intruder apologetically, “So sorry dear I have to go in now. But it was really nice talking to you. I’m sure we’ll meet again.” The intruder almost had a dry tear in her eyes, “So glad to have met you my love, you go in and take care of yourself. I always come to this doctor at least once a year.”
And she went into the room.
The intruder looked around the ceiling … her eyes lazily moving between the window and the floor and finally asked the receptionist, “The doctor is not going to spend very long time with her, is he?”
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