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London. That would be a waste. But if you stayed at the Hilton, that’s right in the middle of everything,” Johnny said. “You would love it around there. It’s walking distance from many of the shops and downtown restaurants.”
    Gary nodded and was ready to commit. Johnny was only confirming what he already knew. “All right. That sounds like where I need to be then,” Gary agreed. He planned to try out the more expensive hotels as well, but Johnny didn’t need to know that. The man knew enough already.
    “So, what’s the big deal with the ah, family in the Mercedes jeeps?” Gary asked.
    “Oh yeah, if you ever see a Muslim woman dressed like that, with the red designs on their veil or on their shoulders, that probably means they’re local royalty, especially if you see a whole gang of them like that. And the older women without the red were probably maids and housekeepers.”
    “What’s up with the color red? I thought
purple
was the color of royalty.”
    Johnny shrugged. “Each country chooses its own color. And in Dubai, it’s red. So that family with Mercedes SUVs were definitely locals.”
    “Locals?”
Gary questioned.
    Johnny continued to smile, enjoying his history lesson. “Locals are like the indigenous Arabs who were here before the massive immigration started. But some of them also come from the other Arabian countries: Saudi, Qatar, Oman, Kuwait … They’re all referred to as
locals
here. They are original descendants from the Middle East.”
    Gary nodded, taking it all in. He noticed how cracked and gnarled the roads looked. “These roads look like they cut them out of the desert last week.”
    “My friend, it’s the dust and the heat. Just like with the cars, it’s hard to keep any new roads looking fresh here. But in London, we have fog, rain and bitter cold to keep everything cooled down. I’m sure in America you have the same. But in countries like this, where it’s always hot and dusty, road construction is a waste of time and money. So they focus mainly on the downtown areas.”
    The downtown area, stuffed with tall hotel buildings and office towers, seemed to explode out of nowhere, with paved streets and elaborate walls to protect the residential housing from the dust storms.
    “They respect the locals here,” Johnny said. “They have no other choice. It’s similar to the respect that Americans have for Hollywood stars and superstar athletes, like you,” he teased with a grin. “Only in Dubai, that respect is for
life.”
    Gary nodded, enjoying the information he was getting.
    “Nevertheless, thousands of immigrants come here each year to work and to earn money for their families back home,” Johnny continued. “Dubai is the new playground of the world, and I’m here to play too.”
    By then, they had entered the busy nighttime traffic of downtown Dubai, which looked very similar to the density of New York, Chicago and San Francisco. There were buildings, cars, sidewalks, shops, restaurants, bright lights and multicultural people everywhere. One of those buildings was the Hilton Dubai Creek, where Johnny pulled up in front of the busy parking attendants.
    He placed his car in park and handed the no-name American his card. “Again, anything that you need, you just call me. I know of some parties tonight, where you pick out a girl, and I’ll see if I can go get her for you. But if not, you just come out and enjoy yourself. No pressure.”
    Gary could imagine the smooth British playboy enticing the international women of the Middle East. He had the look and confidence to pull it off with ease. He even wore a few pieces of expensive gold jewelry.
    Gary was tempted to ask the precocious young man if he supplied recreational drugs. He suspected that he did—only he would make you ask him for them first. Maybe pushing women instead was much safer in Dubai, particularly for a young American stud. Johnny imagined that several women he knew would agree to hang out with Gary