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Get smart or die trying...from slipping on the muddy tiles.

Some people in this building still manage to amaze me. When I went out for Shul, before sunrise, I saw one of the neighbors wet mopping the tile floor of the loft outside his door, apparently in an effort to get the sand away. I was about to ask him what the hell he was mopping away sand for, seeing as the darn sand storm had not yet subsided one iota, but then what could possible be the point of that, except to make him aware that I considered him an unbelievable Putz?


So sure enough, when I now 6 hours later came back from a diagnostic Hebrew test for another round of Ulpan, the plentiful water outside his door still hadn't dried up, seeing as Beer Sheva is not only windy, stormy and sandy, but also cold. What had happened though, obviously, was that more sand had blown in from the desert of our dreams and longings, turnings the 20 or so wet mopped meters outside his door into a bleeding, slippery mud swamp, part of which has by now entered all our apartments via our shoes. Thanks, dimwit.  If I ever see you again wet mopping the tile floor in the sand storm, I shall kick you in the behind. Hard.
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