Ain't no dog parks

It sounds like a blues song.

Our car's in the shop
ain't nothin' to do
blah blah blah blah
and something else too

OK, right, obviously the first two are the only pertinent bits. Mrs Blog said to me this morning as I laced up my journalism uniform: "I'm bored." In Chicago, this would be an easy problem to solve. First of all, because we could just take our dog to the park and throw a tennis ball for her until she collapsed into a puddle of puggle. Always fun.

And second of all, because there were a lot of non-boring things within walking distance, or at least a short cab ride. Consider:

Take a cab to CARY'S LOUNGE to DRINK BEER WITH PETE.

Walk to CAFE SELMARIE to HAVE COFFEE AND PASTRIES.

Walk to LINCOLN SQUARE to BUY STUFF.

And so on. Here, the ability to casually entertain one's self is arguably quite difficult if one lives in Tanker Mai. Sure, it's mere steps away from the Gulf's Greatest Newspaper. But the coffee shops aren't really places where a refined lady could sit and work on her laptop, the restaurants all serve zinkers and although you could certainly walk to the nearest mall (Al Wahda has it all!), it's not the most picturesque stroll. Oh, and did I mention our car is in the shop?

So I am left with a blank. Maybe the solution is: Take a cab to A DIFFERENT NEIGHBORHOOD to LOOK FOR APARTMENTS.