Why Let the Truth Get in the Way of a Good Story

Picture taken in front of business place described below

If you've known me for more than a minute, you know that I love to tell stories. David and I live by the motto that when we get to the end of our lives, we want to be able to say that we've got good stories. I guess that's why we're here is to gather and live new and different stories.

If you've spent more than an hour with me, you've also probably heard me utter this phrase (see headline above). Sometimes (though never intentionally) a better story is told if the truth is embellished. NOW we would never do this, but we know people who do (wink! wink!)

Believe me when I tell you that the next story is absolutely true, every single word.

A couple weeks ago I placed a picture of a place with an eifel tower-sorta thing on top and a bronze camel in front. I said that I didn't know exactly what the place was but that I had heard it was either a place to get pictures framed OR a brothel.
And of course I promised to check it out as I AM Your Eyes and Ears in the Middle East!

SO, recently I was walking by this place on one of my workouts and the place was open. Being "Scoop" Brown, always anxious for the truth, I bravely marched in determined to get to the bottom of the story. This is the conversation that followed:

Nadine (N): Excuse me, do you speak English?
Lovely Muslim Woman (LMW): No
N (not easily swayed) Well, can I ask you a question anyway?
LMW (as she gets up from behind her desk and motions for the security guard to join her): yes?
N: What is this place?
LMW (with hand gestures): Women come and (pause) take off clothes
N; OH! And they go to a Spa or Facial?
LMW: No, they take off clothes
N: Oh, thank you

As I high-tail it out of the building now thoroughly convinced that I've found THE Brothel in Kuwait (and so close to where I live), I almost run over my personal trainer. We get about a block away and I burst out laughing because I truly can't believe what I've just heard.

Two weeks go by and I finally get up the courage to ask our secretary (a truly Lovely Muslim Woman) and another teacher who has lived here for 7 years. The poor secretary's eyes almost popped out of her head and the teacher looked at me like I had two heads. Conversation as follows:
Smart Teacher Ronda (STR): I've been there
N: Excuse me?
STR: It's not a brothel, it's a place where a Lebanese man has a designer clothing business. You walk in and there's a totally golden room with all white clothes. You do take off your clothes only when you try on the dresses he's designed to see if you like the style or fit in the size. I went there when I was looking for a wedding dress a couple years ago.
N: So, there's not a brothel there?
Secretary now takes out her Koran and starts to pray...okay I made that part up
STR: NO, but the Lebanses man is quite animated and quite into himself. He was all snappin' his fingers around like a high fashion guru (She demonstrates snapping her fingers around her head). And he said to me "Oh, you Large!" And I said to him "Yes I am!"

SO NOW I KNOW
it's not a brothel, it's a fashion designer place run by a Diva-like Lebanese designer. Oh well.

**But you wouldn't believe how I held the 8th graders attention with this story today! I also think I taught them a new English word (brothel) So if I'm shipped out of the country at midnight, you know why!!