The ordeal with the police was luckily nothing more than, indeed, a “standard procedure, all normal”, as the cop had told me. I still wasn’t remarkably relaxed with venturing out of the immediate vicinity of my hotel, so I decided to stay in the next day and just focus on my actual work, which at the moment is writing.
Coming back to my work, as I’ve said vaguely I’m working on a new film production, of which I can’t tell anything at the moment as it’s not yet launched, but it’s a pretty cool thing I’m getting very excited on. As so often, these things take longer time than expected, and this film has actually been in discussion ever since February, that’s before Covid-19 hit Europe, so not surprisingly, a lot of complications have stood in the way of this thing becoming a reality since then and now – and the backstory of the film itself is much longer, but I won’t get into that now. All I can say is that the fact that we are here, now, en route to Louisiana to get the actual production kicked off, has taken quite a lot from quite a many people, and as always, it can still all go south any given moment. The world is now a very volatile place for any production or construct that requires a lot of people working seamlessly together and a pile of money to keep things running.
So, having said that, I was very happy to have our first actual production crew meeting on Thursday, after our almost-daily script catchup. This meeting was with prosthetics and makeup team lead, and a very productive one indeed. I’m still lacking a director of photography for the project, and yet to hear from the casting, but those are to come in any given day.
In the evening, I felt like stretching my legs a bit and was looking for a place to down a beer and a burger. The Internet told there’s a cool place close by, by the name of Lock, Stock and Barrell, a rock bar and a burger joint I hear. Not a typical Arab country joint for sure, but something I always love to go to when traveling abroad.
“A rock club, you say”, I says to myself. “Well, this calls for my best sleeveless shirt to show off my incredibly rock tattoos, a sure way to get in swimmingly”. And yeah, gazes I did get as I walked out, since not too many locals have too many tattoos, and anyways I don’t look like a local. The place was located inside a (blissfully well air-conditioned) mall close by the beach and as I walked in the line, the place seemed not too crowded from the outside. Just before me, a regular tourist couple arrived to the line and asked kindly for a table for two. “Sure, this way sir.” In they went.
When it was my turn, I sensed right away their disgust. They looked at me from head to tow, shaking their heads. I asked for a table… “Sir, do you have a reservation.” No, I did not have. “Sorry sir, we’re fully booked tonight.” Really? The place was half empty. More than that. “And sir, may I say, we don’t allow people in sleeveless shirts in bars here.”
Now, that’s a whole load of bullshit right there. I could see people in bars in sleeveless shirts all the time. The place wasn’t packed, either, so they could’ve easily fit me in, it’s a huge joint all in all. There’s just something in the cut of my jib that doesn’t work with the people here in UAE.
So, instead of a hip designer burger and a craft beer, I went to Mickey D’s and got myself a load of self-loathe/self-pity burgers and a coke and went back home.