The King of Jordan appointed the mayor and the mayor appointed me, by the way. The mayor also appointed Mohammad, who drove us around (or rather, sat next to the driver and spoke to us in broken english). He reminded me of a combination between Borat and Alexander Perchov ("My legal name is Alexander Perchov. But all of my friends dub me Alex, because that is a more flaccid-to-utter version of my legal name. Mother dubs me Alexi-stop-spleening-me!, because I am always spleening her") - but i suppose when you travel any one who is male and a vague engish speaker reminds you of Borat and Alexander Perchov's love child.

I think he asked me to marry him, but I am not sure. The customs official definitely asked for my hand, and I did have a moment of fear as I looked around the airport and realized that he was the most official person in the room. He had a gap between his front teeth, which we were both pleased by. He said, Do you have a husband?  Do you have a friend? Do you wish to marry me?

I said I had a friend. I do have friends.