The unlucky bedouin

Have you heard of the unlucky bedouin?

No?

Let me tell you a version of it:

I am sitting here, writing these stories, on a table with four couches. I occupy one, there are five places free.

These two blondies are looking for a place to sit. They look at me, at the places and ask the middle eastern guy on the next table if the two places across his couch are free.

The girls sit down.

That is all good. I can handle that. I can live with that.

But not if half a minute later, in some unintelligible language, using mostly his hands,  a middle eastern dude asks me if my couches are free.

That is the luck that gets you fucked by a polar bear; in the desert. That, is, what happened to the unlucky bedouin.