Today I had a nice talk with a TERRORIST.
You find them all over NYC, some have fancy carts, and some make you think twice about what you’re about to do. You can get a quick gyro, felafel or a hot dog from the street vendors and yes some even live up to the hype about being “the best.” A lot of people think of these hard workingmen and women as TERRORIST—you hear the occasional idiot say they use the money to fund Daesh or some insane conspiracy theory.
Today I got a falafel sandwich from the local guy. He always greets people, in a heavy Middle East accent as “my friend.” But are we really friends? that would entail, at a basic level, that at least we know something about each others lives–so far our conversations were no more significant that if I wanted a bit more tahini.
He said something like, ‘I don’t see you for a long time my friend’ I explained that I’m careful what I eat because I’m working-out at the gym. Suddenly he looked solemn—It didn’t strike me as if the occasional loss of my $6 was the cause so I asked him what was up.
He told me how worried he is about his health, he’s close to 300LBs he is worried because he has two daughters -he is a dotting father imagine that! from a TERRORIST no less. I said he could get that down with some work and he told me he has tried but doesn’t know how. At 35 he is looking quite old. That could have been the end of that but I pushed myself out of that New Yorker comfort zone that has us perpetually living on the fast lane—we talked a bit more and I asked him about his free time what he ate, he opened up said if he could start a workout regime he would feel better about his life. So I told him that I will write him a basic program the guy looked like he won the lottery or something.
I gave him words of encouragement and I truly feel he can lose the weight and be healthy for his family. To me he was just the Falafel guy today he became Amir.
I think I like my new friend, even if he is a TERRORIST 😉