Three Strangers Strike Up a Conversation
drivingrl
Posts: 1,448
An e-mail forward I received from my Dad:
<< Subject: Three strangers strike up a conversation
Three strangers strike up a conversation in the airport passenger Lounge in Midland, Texas, awaiting their flights.
One is an American Indian passing through from Lame Deer. Another is a Cowboy on his way to Houston for a livestock show. The third passenger is a fundamentalist Arab student, newly arrived at Texas State University from the Middle East.
Their discussion drifts to their diverse cultures. Soon, the two Westerners learn that the Arab is a devout, radical Muslim and the conversation falls into an uneasy lull.
The cowboy leans back in his chair, Crosses his boots on a magazine table and tips his big sweat-stained hat forward over his face.
The wind outside is blowing tumbleweeds around, and the old windsock is flapping; but still no plane comes.
Finally, the American Indian clears his throat and softly he speaks, "At one time here, my people were many, but sadly, now we are few."
The Muslim student raises an eyebrow and leans forward, "Once my people were few," he sneers, "and now we are many. Why do you suppose that is?"
The West Texas cowboy shifts his Toothpick to one side of his mouth and from the darkness beneath his Stetson says in a drawl, "That's 'cause we ain't played Cowboys and Muslims yet, but I do believe it's a-comin." >>
Yikes. I love my Dad. He proudly served our country as a Marine during the Vietnam War, but after reading this, I'm glad he wasn't making any major tactical decisions.
<< Subject: Three strangers strike up a conversation
Three strangers strike up a conversation in the airport passenger Lounge in Midland, Texas, awaiting their flights.
One is an American Indian passing through from Lame Deer. Another is a Cowboy on his way to Houston for a livestock show. The third passenger is a fundamentalist Arab student, newly arrived at Texas State University from the Middle East.
Their discussion drifts to their diverse cultures. Soon, the two Westerners learn that the Arab is a devout, radical Muslim and the conversation falls into an uneasy lull.
The cowboy leans back in his chair, Crosses his boots on a magazine table and tips his big sweat-stained hat forward over his face.
The wind outside is blowing tumbleweeds around, and the old windsock is flapping; but still no plane comes.
Finally, the American Indian clears his throat and softly he speaks, "At one time here, my people were many, but sadly, now we are few."
The Muslim student raises an eyebrow and leans forward, "Once my people were few," he sneers, "and now we are many. Why do you suppose that is?"
The West Texas cowboy shifts his Toothpick to one side of his mouth and from the darkness beneath his Stetson says in a drawl, "That's 'cause we ain't played Cowboys and Muslims yet, but I do believe it's a-comin." >>
Yikes. I love my Dad. He proudly served our country as a Marine during the Vietnam War, but after reading this, I'm glad he wasn't making any major tactical decisions.
drivingrl: "Will I ever get to meet Gwen Stefani?"
kevinbeetle: "Yes. When her career washes up and her and Gavin move to Galveston, you will meet her at Hot Topic shopping for a Japanese cheerleader outfit.
Next!"
kevinbeetle: "Yes. When her career washes up and her and Gavin move to Galveston, you will meet her at Hot Topic shopping for a Japanese cheerleader outfit.
Next!"
Post edited by Unknown User on
0
Comments
I wonder how many other Americans feel this way. It's startling.
naděje umírá poslední