Y A S M E E N
I've been obnoxiously bored, walking around, trying to keep myself entertained.
"Excuse me, would you know if the appetizers have pork in them?" I ask one of the waiters.
"No, everything is halal. They were special orders made by the sponsor of tonight's event for his fiancée," he answers.
For his fiancée? That's so thoughtful, I smile to myself. She just obviously is Muslim.
"Thank you!" I say to the waiter.
As I'm minding my own business, munching on my snacks, I feel someone bump against my back, making me drop my biscuit.
"Oh, oops! Sorry!" The apology comes out as an instinct even though I wasn't at fault.
