This afternoon I was running errands and stopped at a convenience store for gas. I rarely go to this particular station, as it’s a little out of my way, and everyone who works there has a middle eastern accent. You can call me prejudiced if you want, but I’ve become very wary of the muslims in my State, and frankly, I’d rather give my business to one of the locals if I have the choice.
I started to chat with the man behind the counter about the new Mediterranean restaurant that was opening across the street, and he said that he’d already eaten there, and the food was pretty good.
“Do they serve gyros?”, I said. “Yes,” he replied, “it’s a Greek restaurant, so the gyros taste a lot different than they do in my home country of Egypt.”
“Oh, you’re from Egypt? You must be pretty upset about the chaos that’s going on over there,” I said. “Yes,” he said, “I’m worried about my family.”
Being the ballsy chick that I am, I asked him directly, “What does your family think of the Muslim Brotherhood taking over power?”
“They’re not happy about it,” he said. “They are afraid that the muslims will be much worse than Mubarek was. Most people didn’t mind Mubarek. Unless you were causing trouble, he left you alone. I don’t hate muslims. I lived with them. But there are some that want to tell you what to do. And those make us scared.”
“I thought the Egyptians wanted democracy. Didn’t they understand that the Muslim Brotherhood would be just like a dictatorship?” I asked.
“The people do whatever the mullahs tell them to do. They don’t think for themselves. The mullahs tell them who to vote for, and that’s who they voted for. What you see on the news isn’t the whole story,” he said.
“Are you a Coptic Christian?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said, “and a lot of my people are trying to get out of Egypt now. My Dad says they will be okay. But, I don’t know…”
“Well, I’m glad you got out and that you are safe. I’ll pray for your family,” I said with a smile.
He beamed. “Thank you so much. Stop by again some time.”
“I will,” I replied.
And I plan to stop by more often. So much for my prejudice over the accent, huh? Who knew he was a Coptic Christian who’d come to America to escape a dictatorship and make a life for himself.
I don’t know the man’s family, but I’m certainly going to pray for their safety tonight. And I pray that he’s wrong about the muslims being worse than Mubarek.
Sadly, I don’t think he is.
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