I feel a little guilty today. It's not that I did anything really wrong, it's just that I slept with Samira, my secretary. In and of itself, that's fine. After all we are two grown-up, consenting adults and what we do behind closed (office) doors is our own f-ing business, no pun intended. Still, some people might be thinking that because we work together than this kind of relationship is inappropriate. Perhaps even some of you are thinking that this could be considered an abuse of my power. Let me assure you however, that I am the last person on earth to do such a thing – especially to a poor, oppressed Arab, and especially to such a lovely Arab woman, who turned out to be even sexier than I had imagined.
You know, it's really hard to tell about these Arab woman, underneath all those baggy ill-fitting sacks they wear, but I always had a feeling that they are as lustful as any woman and even more so, hiding their animal passion behind veils, their brown doe-like eyes peeking out, beckoning to me. How could I resist? She sure didn't, I mean the minute I closed the door and locked it she almost ran right into my arms. I say "almost" because she really was quite shy in the beginning, but I knew she wanted to. I could tell. You see I have an instinct for these things, and really, once I made it clear that I'm serious, she calmed down and turned out to be as great a lay as I have had since, well, come to think of it, my last secretary (She left suddenly – I never really understood why. Women! They're crazy!)
So, as you see, everything is fine except for one thing: I tend to be a little over-zealous in my love. I'm a passionate guy, as you can tell by my absolute devotion to the number one passion of my life– Human Rights – and when I'm in love (I can't believe I said that) then I can be a little rough. Anyway, to make a long story short, it seems that Samira kind of misunderstood my passion and devotion to her, for something entirely different. What's worse – she told her sister, who told her mother who couldn't shut her mouth and just had to tell her husband and, long story short, two of her brothers stopped by my office yesterday and claimed that I raped Samira and that the family must be "compensated". Of course I did no such thing – it was love pure and simple and I denied the allegations completely but they would have none of that, and in any case, even the slightest whisper of such an accusation would ruin me in the Human Rights community.
Marriage, obviously is out of the question – I'm not marrying an ignorant Arab woman who doesn't even have the sense to be grateful that the Deputy Director of Palestinian Human Rights for the whole West Bank and Gaza (yeah that's my title) honored her in such a manner, a woman who can't shut her mouth and is completely disloyal to her boss, her loving, caring Champion of Human Rights For Palestinians boss I might add, a woman who cannot tell the difference between rape and passionate, if somewhat forceful love making. Nope, marriage is out of the question, for these and a million other reasons.
So they are now demanding money, and not a petty sum either. They want fifty thousand dollars to forget the whole thing. That is a nice bundle, and just about every penny I have in my savings account. Of course, no woman is worth fifty grand, much less an Arab who still lives in a tent. (I mean, for Christ's sakes people, it's the Twenty First century! )
But that's besides the point. I'm not giving them any of my own money. On the other hand, I don't mind giving them someone else's money, and that can be easily arranged. All I have to do is put together a new project for their village. We'll call it "The New Yasser Arafat Center For Human Rights Education" and we'll dedicate it to the memory of all the poor Palestinians who's right's are violated on a daily basis by the occupation. Yep that sounds more like it. We'll have classes for children and grown ups. We'll teach them what their human rights are and how to protect them, how to fight for their precious human dignity. Actually – it's not a half bad idea. The best part of course is that these thing take a lot of time and money, and if, accidentally on purpose, fifty thousand grand disappear into thin air, then nobody will notice. Arabs are notorious for misplacing money, and most likely nobody will care anyway.
Human Rights work can sure be stressful sometimes, but it is so satisfying.
Which reminds me - I have to find me a new secretary. I hope she has great legs.