Unexpected Moroccan Discoveries or: Girl Talk is Boring and Peepholes are Scary
October 6, 2007
The rooms at the Maroc Hotel are arranged in a circle around a central courtyard full of orange trees. In this circular set-up, the window of one room opens right up upon that of another room. There is a group of loud female American students who are studying abroad in Morocco staying in the rooms near mine. They are loud, but they are having a good time, so I cannot blame them. They are on study abroad sabbatical and are having the time of their lives . . .
At night the loud American girls next to my room make girl talk really loudly. I cannot escape listening, no matter how hard I try. They are loud, and it is as if they are yelling right into my room (they are).
I have always wondered what girl talk consists of, and last night I was force fed a lesson. The very loud girl from Milwaukee began orating a very loud description of how she recently had sex with some guy named “Shawn.” Up until now, I always thought that it was a put-on when women would tell me that they do not think of men sexually in the same ways that men think of women. I refuse to believe women when they tell me that they are not attracted to male sex parts in isolation. Mira tells me all the time how she thinks that naked men are repulsive. I refuse to believe her. This is probably because I am a man. I was now forced to listen to the girl talk that was pouring in through my open window, and I thought that my counter assumptions would finally be vindicated.
I was wrong.
The loud girl from Milwaukee went through the whole entire episode of having sex with “Shawn” and, not only did she fail to mention anything even remotely exciting but, could only talk about how cute the nervous pitter patter of his quickly beating heart was.
Girl talk is boring.
I disgustedly shut my window and covered my head with a pillow to escape being too bored to sleep.
On to the peep hole . . .
The Maroc hotel is usually not very full of people at this time of year. It is quite big and I sometimes think that I am the only one here. So a few nights ago I made my way to the shower, which is usually always unoccupied at this time, and I walked up to the door and made a motion to open it. But I momentarily stopped short because the light was on inside. I figured that someone just forgot to turn it off, as there was not any water running and I heard no sounds coming from within. But I waited for a few moments none the less, so that I could avoid disturbing someone. As I stood there listening, I noticed that a little eye level hole had been bored through the door.
“Ah, a peephole ” I thought with a touch of surprise.
I still did not hear anyone inside and presumed that the shower was unoccupied, so as I reached for the handle to open the door, I peeked in through the peephole to see what someone could see if they were to be peeking in on me. . . . .
And there was an old French woman.
That is not what someone would see if they were peaking in on me.
I ran away, terrified, and without my shower for the night.
Peepholes are scary.
Unexpected Moroccan discoveries.