Saudi Boys Drag
Perhaps we have more in common than I thought:
“There! There in the GMC!” Mohamed shouted. “Girls!”Through the tinted windows in the back of the GMC, I could make out three indistinct black shapes. Thamer stepped on the gas, but a white Mercedes S-class containing four young Saudi men edged him out. The Mercedes pulled alongside the GMC, and the two young men in the back seat waved pieces of cardboard with phone numbers written on them.
“They beat us,” Fahad complained, as Thamer tried to pull up behind the GMC. “And they have a hotter car.”
I looked around. We were surrounded by several other cars, all containing young men and all trying to get the attention of the figures in the GMC, while simultaneously trying to edge each other off the road at high speed.
“Isn’t this getting a bit dangerous?” I asked.
“Yeah,” said Fahad. “Sometimes the girls get really scared, there are so many cars chasing them. Sometimes they’re in their car, crying and screaming for us to go away. It’s fun to make girls angry.”
“I’d say that maybe 3 out of 10 nights of numbering,we have some success,” Fahad explained.
“You mean that 3 out of 10 nights you get a girl to talk to you?” I asked.
“No, no,” Fahad laughed. “Maybe 3 out of 10 nights we get one phone number. Getting a girl to actually talk to you on the phone is much rarer. But it happens, so we’re always hoping.”
And then they went to Sonic for oceanwaters and limeades.
Thanks to Justin.