My Favourite Mistake
Part 1 of 2.
Many of you will find the following story hard to believe.
Last Thursday, we made an overnight stop-off in Muscat, Oman. The reason for the visit was to hang out with our friend Dan (yes, from the book), who has been living in the city for over 2 years now.
It was an amazing 36 hours. Although chilling on the beach and quading through the desert was a blast, I was extra keen to experience Muscat nightlife.
I wasn’t expecting much, but Danny assured me the city had a pulse.
For those unfamiliar with the region, Oman is one of the most conservative countries in the world. In principle, Sharia law is the bedrock foundation for all Omani law - especially when it comes to family. Pre-marital sex is illegal, sex with a non-Muslim is even more illegal, and Westerners caught with an Omani chick faces serious consequences. As a result, I resigned myself to picking up foreigners.
But there was a glimmer of hope.
“It CAN be done,” my friend Dan said. “It took me awhile to crack – over a year – but luckily I met the right girl. One time her uncle saw us together and I nearly got deported! Luckily, she kept her mouth shut and didn’t tell the family who I was. ”
Danny was the only guy I knew who had managed to capture the elusive Omani flag on their own turf (or anywhere, for that matter!).
“The problem is you almost never see them in bars. Only a handful of upper class girls drink – and they usually hang in groups, so it’s social circle game. But even then, practically all of them live with their parents until marriage and they have a curfew.”
He was sadly correct. In the club we ended up in, there wasn’t a single Omani girl to be seen. Luckily, we had just come from the rooftop bar of the Raddison, where a handful of local girls were kicking back with friends…
We had 10 in our group, four of us pirated up. I looked around. Everybody was seated in groups – only two of which appeared to have locals girls, many still in their hijabs. It was tough territory all right.
After a hour, just by chance, I happen to be ordering a drink at the bar the same time as a good looking Arabic girl with bright eyes. She was a little thick, but in all the right places, with a booty that would make a black man beg. Her dark complexion had me curious.
“Where are you from?” I asked.
“Oman,” she said, smiling.
“Cool. You’re the first Omani I’ve talked to. It’s my first day here.”
It went from there. After a little banter, she invited me to join her and her friends. After gaming her mates, the two of us sat down to chat. Things were going great, but pretty soon I hit a roadblock.
“I have boyfriend. We’ve been going out two and a half years.”
Initially my heart sank, but my gut told me to press on. Boyfriend, smoyfriend.
“I’m trying really hard not to kiss you right now,” I whispered in her ear.
“No!” she hushed. “Not here.”
Not here – they were the magic words.
“Meet me down in the hotel lobby in two minutes,” I said.
I got up and left.
3 minutes and 47 seconds later, we were making out in her car.
Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. She was paranoid and wanted to return to her friend lest they suspect anything. Then, as we were re-entering the hotel, my friends spilled out of the elevator, leaving to hit the club. I acted fast.
“Where do you live?” I asked.
“At home, but my parents are away for the weekend.”
“Ok, I’ll ring you later and you can pick me up.”
Long story short…
In the rush, I missed a digit taking her number down and it never happened. Sigh…
The rest of night all I could think about was the lost opportunity of the Omani flag.
“Do you know how lucky you are to have even KISSED a local here?” Dan said, trying to cheer me up. “And on your first night!? Fuck that, it took me months just to get a kiss!”
It made me feel a little better, but as we arrived at the airport the next day, the experience still swam in my head. What an idiot I was to take that number down wrong! Or worse- the thought that maybe she had given me the wrong number on purpose. Fuck it, anyway.
But someone had made a much bigger mistake than me. A mistake that would play-out majorly in my favour…
To be continued…
only NN (an danny an gary the fish) can seem to find the sluts of the most conservative nations and at the same time deflower virgins in more liberal nations.
its offical you have tighter game than roosh virgile kent and the guys at 3rd millenuim men
NN, how do you afford to travel constantly? I work all the time and even then taking more than a couple trips per year becomes prohibitively expensive. What’s the secret?