A New Cush for the Tush

David and I paid a visit to bicycle row near TV roundabout the other evening. I've been telling him about the plight of Joe-L, our compound carpenter. The bicycle seat that he has to rest his tush on is in a tattered state. Poor Joe-L doesn't have enough fat on his body to absorb the jolting of going over the speed bumps in the neighborhood and I always feel badly when I see him. So, I told David that I was going to tell Joe-L that my husband wants to buy him a new seat. I didn't want to take any chances on being misunderstood. Who knows, in his culture me buying him a new seat could mean something completely different. Remember Yassir? So anyway, we have seat in hand and are just waiting for Joe-L to mosey on over to our neck of the woods to present it to him. And, yes, that is a typical Doha bike shop. Unbelievably, they seem to know the order of their madness.


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