Have you seen a lo2tah?

Here's a random piece of information about me for you to ponder: I often find myself in need to use public bathrooms. "Often" here meaning all the time. I don't enjoy it, but you can't exactly be picky when you're out of the house 8 hours straight and have a kidney system of questionable quality. But that's a story for another post, or better yet should be left for the imaginary book I plan to write someday, with its catchy title: "My Search For A Bathroom". It's basically a book where I record my observations and surprisingly interesting and useful skills I've acquired from constant use of public bathrooms. I am quite the authority really, having developed my own personal grading system and able to recommend the best public bathrooms in most parts of town should you ever be in the situation where mother nature is hollering at you.

One golden rule for me is: minimum exposure. You have to be efficient. There's no need to spend a second more than the time you actually need in a bathroom. There's icky, then there's more icky. The more you spend in the bathroom, the higher the risk of ickiness rubbing off on you.

Having said that, you can imagine my stand on "public bathroom socializing". Now it's one thing to engage in friendly conversation a bit with your girlfriends as you hurriedly wash your hands and/or gawk at the mirror after discovering that you've been prancing around for the last hour with chocolate milkshake smothered on your forehead. That's okay. But to actually stand there, or worse, lean against the sink for support as you discuss a millions things, as cozily as if you were in a sleepover, is just a big no no.

Similarly, public bathrooms are not places to make friends. You can nod and even smile at the lady who just walked in if you feel you must, but don't go and ask about her life story. Just don't. At least not when I'm that stranger.

I was washing my hands, you know minding my own business, checking if I was adorned with any markers on any of my visible body parts. This teacher walked in and I smiled. I knew she was a teacher in our school, I often walk past her in the corridors, but that was the extent of my knowledge. And as far as I was concerned, at least for the time being, it should stay at that.

Maybe not.
nameless teacher: So you're a teacher this year?
Me: yep (I figured I'll stick to 3 lettered words and body gestures as long as I can help it)
She: You were an assistant last year?
Me: uh-huh
She: So did you get engaged?

Okaaaaaaaaay. I definitely did not see that coming. As if bathroom conversations were not uncomfortable for me already. But before I could figure out how to respond, she beat me to it. Probably as a response to the look on my face.

She: I'm sorry, I know people must ask you that a lot and it's annoying, I know.

Hmmm. For some reason instead of thinking how rude and nosey she was (as I would normally do), I found myself thinking that she was pretty sweet. The fact that she acknowledged that her remark was annoying made me feel less annoyed, for some weird reason. So I said what the heck be nice, even if you're in the bathroom.

Me: Umm, actually no. But I don't want to right now anyway, I'm going to finish my studies. (I beamed. I couldn't hide my excitement).

She: Oh I see, Allah iywaf2ek. But habibti, you are like my daughter and if you find "3arees lo2tah" (a guy who's quite a catch) then you should definitely go for it. Take it from me.

Me (amused): umm, I'll remember that. But I really want to get my masters. So I'll worry about Mr. lo2tah after that, iza Allah kateb.

That seemed to satisfy her and we moved on to more general issues. By then I had resigned to the fact that I was in lengthly public bathroom chit-chat and even leaned against the sink. At one point, I even asked about her name. She's Ms. Bushra.

As I walked out of the bathroom, I couldn't help but reflect with amusement on the term "3arees lo2tah". This must be the most overused term in the marriage industry (and yes it is an industry). I must've heard it being used a million times, yet I never actually stopped to ponder it. What exactly is a "lo2tah"? I never asked. I guess I figured, once you have to choose, you'll know how to find the lo2tah. I guess I was under the assumption that a 3arees lo2tah can be spotted a mile away, like a guy wearing a bright pink T-shirt in the mall (one could argue that singling out a guy who's wearing pink is no longer a picnic, considering that half the male population here are now proud owners of bubble gum pink shirts. What's up with that????)

But now I'm twenty something, and I must admit that I am not entirely sure as to what qualifies a 3arees as lo2tah. What elevates him from a "just another potential husband" to a "can't-be-turned-down lo2tah". And should I assume that all those girls getting married have successfully pinned down a lo2tah?

I thus plead to you kind people of the blogging world to please share any insights you might have on this matter. What is a "lo2tah" to you? Did you ever have a real life encounter with a lo2tah? what is the opposite of a lo2tah? Is there a reference point for a lo2tah? (George clooney maybe?). And does a lo2tah guy know that he is a lo2tah? And most importantly, what happens if you do turn down a lo2tah? What are your changes of running into another lo2tah?

Okay I'll admit to the fact that I am putting forth those questions mainly for my sheer amusement. But lets not forget that I was advised to put my life on hold should I run into a lo2tah. For that reason, I should at least have a clear idea what a lo2tah is. I mean, what if I give up my life for a lo2tah-wannabe? That can't be good.
One week into marriage: HA gotcha. I'm not a real lo2tah!

What? It could happen.