Alaa al-Aswany - The Automobile Club of Egypt

How could a member then fail to give him a large tip! It was barefaced flattery but it had magical effects. Shakir was in fact so popular that before reserving a table for dinner, members would often first make sure he was to be on duty, as his presence alone guaranteed good service. Maître Shakir’s comrade-in-arms was Rikabi the chef. Neither could do without the other. They got together at least once a day to consult and exchange thoughts. They understood each other and worked in such harmony that they were like two men rowing the same boat or playing musical instruments in unison. There was honor between them: they shared with each other the kickbacks they received from the grocers, the butchers and the poulterers from whom they ordered provisions for the Club. They had a very refined system for manipulating the bills from the restaurant. Sometimes, when circumstances allowed it, and with special permission from Morqos the accountant, they would run the restaurant for an hour or two for their own benefit, reaping rich rewards. There was in fact nothing that Rikabi or Shakir would stop at in order to make money. They were supremely inventive crooks. If there were specific ingredients piling up in the kitchen, they would pass them on to the customers in “operation fridge empty.” Maître Shakir would announce that there was going to be an open buffet for Club members, and Rikabi would then use all his wiles to present the old food as if it were a special offering. If there was an ingredient that was on the turn, such as shrimps, Rikabi would peel them, dip them in breadcrumbs, fry them and inform Maître Shakir, who would nod his head in agreement and wait for a customer to ask him: “Shakir, what do you recommend this evening?”

The question was academic, but it afforded the customer the pretense of fine dining. A person who asked a question like this wanted only to confirm to himself and to those around him that he was an important personage and that Shakir was so devoted to him that he would indeed recommend only the finest and steer him away from the ordinary. Maître Shakir would bow his head to this sort of customer and whisper in the most tantalizing tones of conspiracy, “Your Excellency, the crevettes panées are excellent, but I’m not sure if chef has any left.”

At this, the customer would feign dismay and press him, “Are you sure there are none?”

“Ah, I’m certain that the chef must have saved a plate or two for you, Your Excellency!”

An expression of gratitude would appear on the customer’s face, and he would feel so special that he would order the shrimps. The order would be brought by the waiters, but served by Maître Shakir himself, who would whisper, “ Bon appétit, Your Excellency. May God forgive me, but I had to lie to the other diners and tell them we were out of the crevettes so that chef could prepare some for our best customer.”

Thus did Maître Shakir kill two birds with one stone: he got rid of the shrimps about to spoil and guaranteed himself a tidy tip.

Next to Maître Shakir sat Yusuf Tarboosh, who knew that he would have to say something. “Praise be to the noble Prophet!”

Everyone then uttered his own praise and prayer for the noble Prophet, and Yusuf continued, “Increasing the bonus is an injustice, and injustice is forbidden because Allah has commanded us to act justly.”

Hagg Yusuf was sixty-five. He was a nervous man whose wiry body never stopped shaking, so he could never hold his head still, something that made his colleagues poke fun at him when he first started working at the Club. It was for this reason that they gave him the nickname Tarboosh, because his head shook like the tassel on a tarboosh or fez. He had worked in the casino since the Club opened and eventually became the longest-serving employee. His life changed completely when His Majesty the king started spending his evenings at the Club. The king came to believe that Yusuf’s presence at his side brought him luck at the gambling table. The notion became so firmly fixed in His Majesty’s mind that often, when immersed in a game, he would call out in French, “Joe! Bougez pas! ”

Yusuf Tarboosh would bow reverently as his heart pounded with joy. Whenever the king won, he pushed some of the chips toward him with the croupier’s stick, saying, “ Ça c’est pour vous, Joe!”

Tarboosh would take the chips and put them to one side, never in his pocket, as it would be unseemly to do such a thing in the presence of His Majesty. The following day, Yusuf Tarboosh would go to see Morqos the accountant and cash them in. Even on the rare occasions when the king lost, His Majesty would take the stick and rake some of the winner’s chips over to Joe. That is how the money started piling up for Yusuf, slowly at first, but then in a torrent that changed his life completely. He became a man of means. He kept his scrawny and haggard Upper Egyptian wife, the mother of his children, but took as a second wife a beautiful, pale widow from Mansoura in the Delta, who was a quarter century younger and revived his licit sexual appetite. Then he had a large house with a garden built in his hometown in Nubia and bought a three-story building in Abdin, which brought in a significant amount each month in rents. Life had smiled upon him, granting him more than he had ever hoped for: a deep sense of satisfaction, a comfortable income, health and property. But can any contentment ever be complete?

Before long, Yusuf Tarboosh had fallen into a religious quandary, and his happiness started succumbing to a profound sense of having transgressed. And his sin was so enormous that he was sure he would end up in the fires of hell. All the jurists were clear about that. Would God, may He be praised, listen to his prayers and accept his fasting while he was living on the immoral wages of gambling? He was getting on a bit now and might drop dead at any moment, as happened to people all the time. One night he might just go to bed and never wake up again. At such a time what would he do, and what would he say to God Almighty on the Day of Judgment?

Yusuf Tarboosh went off to speak to some of the renowned religious scholars, and when he told them about his situation, he received various responses: one shaykh advised him to leave his job in the casino immediately, and after keeping back just enough to feed his children, give the rest of his money to charity and look for some un-sinful work. Another opined that he should leave his job in the casino but purify his savings by giving a portion to charity. A third shaykh was more comforting: until he could find a religiously lawful job that offered the same income, he might continue in the casino. Yusuf anguished over the conflicting opinions of the learned men. Feeling out of sorts and so unhappy, he performed the hajj. In front of the Kaaba, he cried for a long time, calling upon God to set him on the right path. When he returned, he felt the great sense of ease of a man who has been shown the answer. He did not leave his job in the casino nor rid himself of his savings, but he paid for a mosque and an orphanage to be built in his hometown and started sending funds to help a large number of poor families. At the beginning of each month, he would put the money in sealed envelopes with names on them and leave these with the Club receptionist. That was how he overcame his feelings of guilt. God knew that he had not chosen to work in a casino and that his advanced age and dodgy health did not allow him to look around for another job. God Almighty is forgiving and merciful, and should He call him to Himself now, all those poor people he supported would intercede to pray for him.

Yusuf also now busied himself reading religious books, and after some complicated negotiations with Alku and Mr. Wright, he managed to win their agreement to use a corner of the roof, next to the changing room, for a room where the staff could go and pray — outside working hours of course. By virtue of his religious devotion, Yusuf Tarboosh gained some status among the staff even though they did not trust him completely, for, when all was said and done, he was still one of the managers who supported Alku against them, and the contradiction between his newfound piety and his job in the casino did not do much to help his credibility.