It's Tuesday already.
Time flies when you think about dousing your hair with government-subsidized gasoline and lighting it on fire.
Speaking of fire, there's a free two-day "first aid" class offered by the Patient's Helping Fund (صندوق إعانة المرضى) --they need a new name, really-- in August. I wonder if its worth the time or more of the stop, drop, and roll stuff.
Moving on. I've been deeply disturbed by a sight a saw a couple of days ago at a mall.
I walk into a toilet, with my pregnant friend who seems to be more interested in the mall's toilets than the stores, and I notice three girls standing around the sink areas. Two of the girls, not older than 14, looked like hookers. I'm sorry they really did! (The third girl was a young kid ,probably no more than 7 years old, hadn't lost the baby fat yet, and had a strand of peroxide-blond hair --one streak--on one side of her head! These girls looked like they were working!! how disgusting!)
Back to the 'older' ones; one of them was wearing a tight knee-length black dress that was rouched around her curves (well, where her curves would be if she was old enough to have any). With her hair all done up and the berry colored lip gloss she had on, her look was very fitting for a cocktail party. If only she was going to one. Mind you it was around 7 p.m. at a shopping mall.
The other girl was wearing tight yellow capri pants, a tight t-shirt with a slit down the back which she was wearing a tank top underneath it.
They both had teased updo's on their heads embellished with fancy shmancy hair accessories. They looked like they were going clubbing, or to a wedding, only we were at a mall...AND THEY'RE 14!!!!
So of course, they're primping at the mirror putting more lip-crap on...(bright colored lip crap) and I'm just standing there... staring at them, disgusted, amused and in shock. They gave me quite a few dirty looks, which I probably deserved seeing as to how I was staring at them since I walked in.
Another lady, who was there since I walked in, was looking at me and smirking and looking back at them...sort of saying "look at them..."
A few minutes later, as I continue to stare at the child prostitute wannabe's, a lady steps out of a stall, approaches the sink to wash her hands (thankfully) and asks the cocktail-dress girl a question. The lady, wearing a pink hijab and cakey makeup, gives me a look, as of course I'm still staring at the girls. The girl answers.
"La Yuma..." Her mother! My whole body stiffened up...Her freggin' mother! An electric charge jolted up and down my spine...Her @#$%^^& mother!!!!
Now, I understand that everyone's free to wear whatever, and trust me it wouldn't have bothered me one bit if these were older women making a conscious decision about the way they would like to represent themselves visually...it's their body, it's their choice...but these 14 year olds can't tell their backside from their frontside...and they're dressed like prostitutes! That's not a matter of choice and expressing themselves through what they wear.
And I try to not be too quick to judge the parent because I understand that teenagers can be difficult...but my God you're a parent!!! As a parent you must draw a line somewhere... and that line isn't forcing hijab or anything crazy like that, heck it's not even about religion, but decency and protecting children from themselves.
You have to know that something is wrong when when your baby looks like a hooker. (I'm not even talking about the peroxide blond strand the 7 year old was sporting.) It's sickening.
I know there 's probably much more to these people than what I got to see in the the few minutes I spent around these girls...and I'm wrong to judge a parent by looking at a few seconds of her life...but the image I saw was sickening.
I wonder in a few years' time, like when they're 16 or 21, what they're gonna look like. My heart goes out to children and the mother as enraged as I am at her.
Of course, I didn't say anything to the mother and we waited a few minutes after they left the bathroom to leave. I've seen enough as it was.
I've thought of them many many times since.