After a circuit of Aisha, we paused in the shade beneath an outcrop protrusion for the all-important tea interval. It was then Ahmed laid out his future business plan and intent to open an auberge (inn) in Nouadhibou. He needed someone to run it. Thus began a not-so-subtle pitch directed at a certain redhead in our party. This was the second time he lobbed hints at Leslie. And, just like the first, his spiel began while I was out of earshot (taking pictures on this occasion). When I entered the conversation, it didn’t occur to me only one of us was qualified for the position (i.e. possessed birthing hips and a comely appearance.) I briefly entertained the idea of working for Ahmed and engaging in a…

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