Border Patrol

2 Aug

It is a good thing I am not a violent person. On the third day of my just finished move, I returned to my not yet evacuated apartment to find all the doors open and the new tenant roaming around like I didn’t still live there. He looked like he had just come face to face with a demonic force when I walked in the door and I’m sure I looked the part. Umm, trespass much, dude? But like I said, I am not a violent person so he escaped with a mere verbal lashing.

Anyway, that little adventure transpired the morning AFTER one of the most hellacious moves I have ever endured. Kansas worthy rain storms, mud and poop-stained Vibrams, sofa leg hammer bashing, tears of pain and frustration and agony and splintery things in our body parts. Honestly, I never want to move again.

On a positive note, I feel like I actually live in a real neighborhood again. On Friday, the Lion King and I were making our first trip over to the new place.  One of the neighbors was walking past and cheerily said, “Good morning!!” or something equally friendly. The Lion King looked at me, I looked at her, and – both of us being transplants (her more so than me) – we were a little taken aback.

What?! A little Midwestern friendliness in the West?

But it wasn’t just her. Neighbors stop and talk to one another. People out walking their dogs wave. It’s amazing! I am aware that Arizona has warped my embodiment of good ol’ Midwestern values. I don’t speak to strangers. I keep my head down or look straight ahead, and I walk really fast. Like I live in LA or something. Every time I’m out with the Lion King, though, I’m reminded of how good it feels NOT to be an Arizonan, or at least THAT type of Arizonan. To speak even when not spoken to, to greet people as if they are all friends. She’s a Southerner and not a Midwesterner, but they’re even better at it than we are and so the point is still valid.

It’s appropriate then that to fuel me up for the grueling move, she took me to the middle east, Lebanon to be exact, where I had the yummiest vegetarian platter at El Saage on the corner of Fort Lowell and Campbell, right around the corner from my old digs. It was less Lebanese and more just regular ol’ Middle East, but I was okay with that.

The tabouli, a dish I don’t normally care for, was very minty and juicy and absolutely delicious. The falafel was the kind you can only hope for, perfectly crisp on the outside, moist and flavorful on the inside. And the smoky baba ganoush was just right, not too runny or too thick, a mountain of yumminess atop warm pita bread.

I do have to say that there were some let downs and they happen to be two of my favorite things. I have yet to find a hummus better than my own, and the one at El Saage was no exception. Perhaps I expect too much from hummus, but this one was heavy on tahini and light on taste. The dolma, or dolmades, were a bit overcooked and dry, but both of these infractions were quickly forgiven after one sip of the calorie-laden mango juice. My taste buds were singing. One thing to be aware of: the falafel is pretty reasonable, but overall, it wasn’t cheap eatin’.

Nevertheless, the Lion King and I left that place very stuffed and very content, all ready to schlep some shit all the way from the east over there to the west.  Transcending borders and all that. Can’t say we’re not a progressive pair.


3 Responses to “Border Patrol”

  1. YinSynchromy August 2, 2010 at 3:56 pm #

    You should have never left my home, darling — but glad to see things are coming around.

    • Elle August 2, 2010 at 5:17 pm #

      Yes, but eventually you would’ve fallen in love and left me so I suppose it all evens out. 🙂

    • Elle August 2, 2010 at 5:17 pm #

      Yes, but eventually you would’ve fallen in love and left me so I suppose it all evens out. 🙂

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