A city of foreigners.
A Middle Eastern man who had been living in North America for decades reached his breaking point when he got tired of many years of relentless name calling, he was tired of being yelled at with the silly old phrase of. ” GO BACK TO YOUR COUNTRY! RETURN TO WHATEVER MISERABLE PLACE YOU CAME FROM AND LEAVE US IN PEACE!”
“Not unless you are a native Indian, then there is nothing you can tell me about being a foreigner here, they are the true owners of this land”, says the fellow, if you too are not a foreigner then your parents might have been, if not your parents, then it’s your grandparents. I love cities where the majority of dwellers are foreigners or have some sort of foreign origin, say for instance, Port Louis in Mauritius, and Dubai in the UAE, so that no single group of people can openly discriminate against another, saying, “You termites, go back to your country.”
I can never tolerate the thought of someone calling me a lost traveller in Gotham, or Windy City, NEVER!
Have you got native blood flowing through your veins? Did you descend from the great chief Eagle Horn that you should be bragging about?
I hear stories that your forefathers mercilessly butchered the natives so cruelly that the mighty Colorado River flowed with blood for ten months on. But I am not going to put guilt upon you for the faults of your forefathers, you are a separate being. Some natives were equally violent I believe.
You have inherited the genes of your forefathers, the reason you are so aggressive and so much against me a foreigner. You attacked me from the very moment I set foot at the airport. You have been antisocial towards me ever since, you can’t even give time to settle and learn the ways of the plains.
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