My Life and Loves
Dubai glittered in the seventies, and I was a wide-eyed flyboy in its opulent hotel lobby. Sure, I played the grown-up worker, but beneath the uniform, I was adrift. My anchor? Books. Those beautiful, tattered things. I’d lose myself in their pages, worlds unfurling with each turn. My coworkers, the housekeeping crew, were warriors battling the desert heat and messy aftermaths of lonely businessmen’s desires. They knew my bookworm ways, and sometimes, like desert mirages, they’d gift me forgotten paperbacks and magazine stashes — whispered secrets from another life.
In my early years, I worked at a fancy hotel in Dubai. It was exciting, but I was lost, wondering what life held. I wanted to feel grown-up, yet still searching for myself.
My friends at the hotel were like family. We were young and wild, always up for adventure. We lived for the moment, not worrying much about the future.
But my truest love was reading. I’d get lost in different worlds, learning new things constantly. I read everything I could get my hands on, from magazines to novels and biographies. It was my escape from reality.
My friends in housekeeping had a tough job. The hotel was always busy with guests from all over, making deals and living their lives in this hot desert city. Many were alone, with no women around. So, they’d relax in their rooms on hot afternoons, reading racy books and magazines like ‘Hustler’ to escape.
Knowing my love for reading, my housekeeping friends often brought me books left behind by guests. I’d cherish these treasures, reading them at my desk while waiting for guests to need help.
One day, they brought me “Emmanuelle.” I devoured it, reading it from cover to cover, even backwards! This daring woman living in France was like a fantasy, perfect for a restless soul like me.
Then came a huge, four-hundred-page book, Frank Harris’ autobiography. This wasn’t fiction; it was real-life adventures from a European playboy in the 1800s. It was a forbidden book, even in places like America!
I read it three times, mesmerised by his experiences. He became a hero for a while, making me question everything I knew about myself and my desires.
I wanted to be like Frank Harris, exploring an unknown world with an untamed spirit.
That’s how my journey began, fueled by stolen moments of reading and the whispers of a life beyond the limits of my five-star cage.
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