It has been a most eventful morning and it is only 7:45. Details shall now be revealed. I awoke to the chiming bells of my iPhone in time for morning prayer. However, I was suffering from a crisis of faith. Last night, nexplicably became ill – vomit all over but since I had nothing in my stomach it was only liquid. (too much detail you are saying). I went back to bed was restless, had found prescribed sleeping medication, was able to keep it down so drifted off to sleep. My crisis of faith evidenced itself by my fears – I was frightened for my future for oh so many reasons. The main primary fear is this. It is hockey play off season – – hundreds of hockey fans are descending upon Edmonton dressed in their Oiler finery to cheer on their team. Masks are no longer mandated in this province, the vaccination rate is dismal. It is open season for Covid to descend upon this City. Everyone, and I do mean everyone, is blithely unaware. All of my meticulous plans shall be destroyed. My scheduled coveted water aerobics will not take place despite the fact that water is not a conduit for the virus. My Edmonton Art Gallery shall be closed. But here is the good news. I did get my second booster shot just the other day in Edmonton. So most probably I shall not be effected and shall be safe as I always keep myself safe. That is all one can do – keep oneself safe. There are other worries and other concerns having to do with where I shall live and other petty (joke) concerns.
I wept as I prayed:
Me: Oh Allah I have lost my way. I always trust in your guidance but I have lost my way!!
I do not understand other Muslim’s duas at all. I do not have to ask for His guidance, He is there, he always will give it to me if I just listen, relax and have patience. I have slowly grown to develop those qualities of patience, knowing that whatever happens to me, even if it seems bad, is good because there is something even better, far superior that Allah has planned for me. With teams streaming down my face I arose from my prayer rug. My phone said someone was trying to reach me. A man, one whom I have never met, who says he might be coming to Edmonton to go to school texted. .
He: How are you?
Me: Great. You should read the blog to keep up I totally love it here. Everything is working out perfectly. AlexisMcBride.com
He: I’ll read the blog.
Me: Well I blog almost every day and have for five years. A lot of reading to do. I am absolutely ecstatic that things are working out. I am blessed by Allah!
He: You do such great work.
That is what cheered me immediately but later a bit of reality set in. He hardly had time to read even one of my blogs. He was a scammer, he was a catfish. They are all over, all over everywhere and everything. I spoke to two young women in the hotel lobby and they said they too are constantly being scammed, their time stolen from them from men with no real identity or purpose in their lives.
I shall now tell the tale of one of the most insidious tricks played on me. It did not deprive me of any money but it wasted so much of my precious time. Faithful readers will recall EGG, the man met in Costa Coffe Shop, the guy that gifted me with a prayer rug. After we had exchanged several texts decided I would Google him. I almost fainted – he said he was Saeed Mansoori. Googled him – he must be Sultan bin Saeed Al Mansoori. I was totally bewitched, mesmerized. The Sultan is all over YouTube, he is on the Cabinet of the UAE, he was Minister of Economy and was able to, somewhat single handedly diversify the economy so that the UAE was not dependent upon oil and gas revenues any longer. He holds many positions of importance, including Minister of Tourism. I spent hours listening to his intelligent speeches on YouTube, addressing Economic Summits in a calm and self-assured manner. He is both humble and brilliant at the same time. That is an ability that few of us have (Please laugh). I had met EGG only once so I did not have a clear memory of exactly what he looked like – it could have been the same guy. Spoke on the phone with him and their voices were alike – but both were Arab men, English was their second language, so I guess that is not remarkable. But things did not quite fit, there was something fishy. At first tried to repress these feels but suddenly, I do think, Allah spoke to me. We were exchanging emails – first I said I would not be coming to Oman for my birthday. But then, after morning prayers the next morning, confronted him – the conversation is detailed below. The man is a Satan. I am sure I was not the first victim of his duplicity, he must do this all of the time but his other victims are not as smart, as thorough as I am and I guess did not have Allah on their side. What a pathetic creature, but as you shall see I nailed him. Allah does speak to me, but says (not literally of course) connect the dots. This guy says he went to school in London., but everywhere and in everything it is clear that the real Sultan went to the University of Arizona. But the other huge clue was this – the Fake was constantly texting me, calling me, responding to my Instagrams. The Real Sultan was incredibly busy, with the death of the President of the UAE and all of the foreign dignitaries combining to pay homage and leave condolences. There would be NO way he could possible have the time to correspond with a woman he barely knew. After realizing the sodden truth, this was my and his text. they sound the same but they are both Arab men with English as their second language.
He: Good morning.
Me: It has been revealed that you are a mere mortal man and that you are probably not going to Jannah. All praise to Allah
He: Why not going to Jannah? Inshallah both of us go to Jannah
Me: For many reasons only Allah knows why you are not going to Jannah. Ask him. . As for me I am going to Jannah and many of the faith are convinced of this. My behavior shall conform to Allah’s ways. My guidance to you is to Repent, Believe and perform a charitable act. Perhaps I came into your life to tell you that.
He: How are you today. How are things going with you.
Me: Goodby. Repent Believe and performa charitable act. I have Allah’s work to do not correspond with you,
He: Okay we will be chatting later.
Me: We will NEVER be chatting. Allah demands this.
I have not heard from him since. Do think I scared the Fake. Does not like my Instagram posts, nothing. I am to say the very least angry at this Fake but at least found our fast, did not spend any money on him and learned a great deal about the real Sultan bin Saeed Al Mansoori – actually rather in love in him. But I will get over him. Why would he be interested in an old lady born in Saskatchewan. No idea how old the Real Sultan is, but definitely younger than I am.
Men like the Fake Sultan are Satans. One cannot change them, one can only get away from them. Satans, the Qur’an says, whisper in your ear. You just get away from them, shut your ears to them and listen only to Allah. In the past three days I have gotten away from three Satans that have haunted my life in both major and minor ways. I recognize them very early – I have developed DEW Distant Early Warning System. They do not give up but if you do respond they just give up. Blocking is a lot of trouble, who cares. They go on to the next victim, they next prey. That is not my problem If other woman are foolish enough to be taken in by them, that is their problem. Those women are not going to be reading my blog in the first place.
But in my real life, not my Instagram life, I am having such fun. Met a wonderful woman and her wonderful daughter, Daughter lives in Vancouver, Mother lives in Powell River. I made an Instagram reel with me interviewing the daughter. It is, admittedly, very funny. Catfish shall descend upon viewing it but I am ready for them. We met this morning for breakfast. I am going to visit them in Powell River, I cannot wait. The Mother was born in England, had a career in the pharmaceutical business but now has a career in the optical business. She has two daughters, cannot wait to meet the other one. The three of us laugh SO hard together about ill behaved children, people with bad manners and worthless men. It is jolly.
And this the biggest compliment of all. I walked outside with them as they were leaving for the airport. My bellman, ( the one with whom I exchange blow kisses) was there and we spoke briefly.
He: I read your blog! You are such a great writer.
Me: Oh my goodness thank you! That is the nicest thing you could say about me. It is so strange. I do not come from a family of writers except for my Uncle Dave Dryburgh. They were coal miners. It is so extraordinary that this happened and you should say this glorious thing to me this morning when I REALLY needed it.
Came up to my room and was writing the blog. My phone rang, it was LOG
He: How are you today? What are we doing today?
Me: Right now I am writing the blog. I will be finished by 11:30 and then I have one of two places for us to go.
He: Okay I will be there at 11:30 and we shall talk then.
He will faint when I tell him the two choices. Either find my mother’s grave or go to a Dollarama store. We actually did both. First the Dollarama store, where I got SO much stuff for $79.
Two photos. One of the my shopping cart and the other beautiful Bethany – the daughter of the Powell River woman. She is beautiful as you can see. More later…