On Getting a New Car, Islamic Loans, Nancy Ajram and Such

Thus far, getting the car was my most difficult feat in Dubai.

Papers, signatures, cheques, down payments, checkups, mechanics, car salesmen are all a natural recipe for disasters.

I searched all over 3 different emirates for a very particular car.

No one said I wasn’t a flamboyant ass.

The search took me a whole month of commuting, scouring newspapers, calling, haggling. Finally, when I found the car that I set my eyes on since coming here, I was faced with all sorts of different debacles.

Car Salesman: What bank is your account with?
Me: Name an anti-Islamic, interest-gargling, pure profit-oriented, anti-religion bank
Car Salesman: Sorry that won’t work out, you need to take an Islamic loan, I'm an old man and I don't want to get mixed with haram money.

Not that I have anything against that, on the contrary, I tend to respect people who adhere to their beliefs in the midst of all the debauchery and tempation going on. But if you wanna come down to it, it is all the same, only a difference in naming.

I hope to have the luxury of pinning down everything on the greedy, fake-smiling, suit-dressing, over-sized watch wearing jerks at the bank on Judgement Day. After all, they are the ones with the beards and prayer mats.

And since you’re all wondering what car I treated myself to, I got an Audi A4. Very beautiful car with all sorts of needless options that I will most probably never figure out. I called her "Aida" and am known for singing "Aida, Aida, ecoutez-moi" in my coarse voice while driving.

What a leap from my previous car, that was a 90 something beat-up Lancer that had a knack for breaking down in the middle of the road on rainy days with brown, boiling water popping from the radiator threatening to eternally scathe my model looks, as other driver pointed at me and laughed.

Car Salesman (smugly): You Jordanians love BMW (as if it needs a rocket scientist to figure that one out)
Me: Yes, but I am an unlikely Jordanian. HA HA HA
Car Salesman(fake laughter): HA HA HA
Me: HA HA! Together, we will rule the universe, as Car Salesman and Buyer, MuwahA HA HA!
Car Salesman(more fake laughter): Ha ha. What did you just say?
Me: Errr.Nothing.

I wanted to make sure that no one guesses my nationality by my car so that when I cut on someone he wouldn't say something along the lines of "effing Jordanian/Palestinian", the way I know when I see a BMW 320i vroom-vrooming on Jumeira Road, that it has a Jordanian owner, or when I see a Peugeot 206 with a drop-top that the owner is Lebanese (damn, you love your drop-tops, don’t ya?), or when I see Corollas or Accords or Altimas, well, you know.

So now I’m zooming around, hitting the kick down, flicking radio stations like a maniac since I have the luxury of doing so using my steering wheel, making “W” signs with my fingers mouthing “Wes’ Bank” to passer-bys as I listen to blaring hip-hop music and trashy Arabic music for the likes of Nancy Ajram and Tamer Hosni.

There goes my to-do list for this year. Actually, there remains one last thing.

Nancy Ajram, will you marry me? I promise to give you the remote control and feed you twice a day.