Lebanon Is Not Ibiza

Lebanon’s reputation as the party hotspot preceeds it. But that status can quickly shift into an uncivilised not-so-hot mess in mere moments. I say this because almost twice a year (summers and winters) a bunch of friends,  acquaintances and tourists visit Beirut and when they do they bring along the most vibrant colourful skimpy borderline burlesque-ish outfits you may ever see in downtown Beirut at midday. I don’t even want to try to explain to you what wardrobe misdemeanours go down come night time. I may come off as quite the conservative here. Trust me, I’m not. But at times my lovely gal pals have made Lady GaGa look shy ( alright maybe Britney), you get the picture.

Of course I end up taking them to all my regular spots, restaurants and nightclubs. Since they’re on vacation mode, they drink twice as much, flirt with all the waiters (who have now become my buddies) and end up committing crimes on that dance floor. Yup, they get to do all that and perhaps even yell-out something snarky at one of the regulars (whom I just can’t stand and  to which I’ve resorted to simple death looks throughout the years) and guess what, a couple of days later, they get to hop on a plane and leave. No one will remember them or what they did, oh no, it’s me that will have to bear the shame when I once again have to face the bartender who got harassed for “heavier” drinks. I could swear my concierge almost winked at me the other day, and who blames him he’s seen my girlfriends come back every night in the wee hours of the morning all last week.

I’m not complaining I say this with much love, but this isn’t Cancun or Vegas, although it may come off as the alternative for those living in less “loose” societies in the Middle East, I’m not sure I want my favourite city in the world to be recognized for simply the chaos it entails. Or am I getting too old for this shiz?