"Have you ever thought of learning Islam?" her voice held annoyance.
"Oh, yes, we have. I can recite a couple suras and hadiths. My friend here have got a copy of the holy Qur'an, the original copy in Arabic. He also speaks Arabic."
I smiled from the beginning of his speech, the smile was completely gone at the end.
"How did you know?" I asked, my voice barely a above whisper.
"Do not spoil the fun, young man. I will tell you at the right time," he replied, smiling.
"Anyway, I like your views very much," I sipped my coffee. It got sugar already. I had no idea who added It. was it Mah or the waitress?
I liked the sugar quantity. I liked the whole idea of coffee. The weather was unusually very cold. Before I entered the restaurant it was hot as usual. I never liked that weather, it made my love of trench coats a hell.
"We are alike. That is why I reached out in the first place," he took a gulp from his mug, "I want us to be friends."
Indeed, like-minded people can make great friends and partners.
"I like your views very much," I told him, "You remind me of the deceased couple. They were too different."
When he heard that he stared down at the deceased couple and then back at me.
"It would not have worked out otherwise their marriage would have turned out quite unhappy, unstable and full of miseries," he said.
"It's a pity some people especially in this country of mine still think it is about destiny. They say it is about a rib being taken out of a man to create a woman who in her turn is destined to be the man's wife. That is a rotten old myth that does not have a place even in the worst museums." I explained and we laughed at the ridiculousness of the myth.
"I hate myths," he said.
"They lock our minds preventing us from learning new things and discover evidence-based solutions and truths." My voice and facial expression exposed my disgust.
"Instead we stubbornly ignore and even oppose evidence-based findings and cling to beliefs that make no sense at all," Mah added and I stared at him, taken aback little bit.
All of sudden, a screech made by either a chair or a table was heard. We all glanced to the definite direction of the sound.
The guy who had lost his Arab friend leaned half-way across the table to the direction of the pretty nurse.
"She's crying. I just wanted to console her," he told the thug. The latter merely stared at the pitiful man and said nothing.
"May I?" the man asked.
The next thing we heard was, of course a gunshot. The man's head jerked backward and he fell to the floor along with his chair. The thug might have been a virtual reality gamer, one who had mastered head shooting to a peerless level.
"You people are pathetic," The thug seemed genuinely disappointed, "The rules are crystal clear, simple and easy. Yet you still violate them ridiculously."
While the thug got up, I turned to Mah, "Let's prove him wrong,"
Mah pursed his lips and glared at the thug who put the dead guy's chair in place and sat on it.
"He should realize that not all people are pathetic," he muttered, apparently as irritated as I was.
If not for the prejudicial nature of the thug's statements I could have sided with him. Over 99% of people are indeed pathetic, mainly in psychological way.
"We must never let petty weaknesses of human nature disgrace us," Mah added.
I bit my lower lip and hissed, "Never!"
"You see the dude died because of the woman, precisely, the attractiveness of her appearance," Mah gazed at the pretty nurse and I followed suit.
She was extremely beautiful, I admit. She was definitely, a colored daughter of a white parent. Her white nursing uniform including the white hat jointly intensified her undisputed beauty.
"We, humans tend to be more sympathetic to people we see as good-looking."
"Unfortunate are those we—with our sinful eyes—see as ugly," I agreed with him.
Mah tilted his head to the right side, "Did you hear that?"