I was on my way home Thursday afternoon, when my cell phone buzzed with a frantic plea from my 13-year-old son. Would I please pick up some batteries for his MP3 player at any store along the way? Luckily, at that moment I was driving past a newly opened hypermarket and quickly pulled into the underground parking lot.
From the looks of the full parking lot, the place seemed surprisingly crowded for a late Thursday afternoon. The whole city is usually closed up in the afternoons, but here I noted throngs of shoppers pulling out of their vehicles and making their way over to the escalators that would deliver them inside.
Noticing a vehicle just pulling out from a parking slot, I waited patiently with my turn signal blinking. As soon as this car had pulled out, a GMC Suburban, with all its passenger windows blacked out, pulled in from the opposite direction with nary a hesitation, leaving me to hunt for another slot. But I had to give him a piece of my mind. This was discourteous and I just had to let him know. I pulled behind the GMC, got out of the car, and quickly walked over to the man who without a glance backward was leading his family inside.
“Excuse me,” I said loud enough for him and the seven members of his family to hear and turn toward me. Focusing my eyes on the man’s face, I continued, “I want to talk to you”. The man eyed me suspiciously, but muttered something to his elder son who led the female members away, while he approached me. He was middle-aged, heavily bearded, and dressed in a thobe tailored several inches above his ankles. Aah, a fervent believer, I gathered. Perhaps he would realize the error of his ways
“Didn’t you see me waiting for the parking slot you so rudely usurped?” I asked.
“Well find another one,” he retorted sardonically. “I have a family with me and you are alone.”
“So you did see me there and yet felt you had more right just because you have a family. Or is it because you think you are a pious Saudi and myself dressed as I am in Western gear deserve any less?” I snapped back with temper rising. Just then his son returned and whispered something, and the man turned without a word to move toward his family. Short of whacking him on his head with a tire iron, I had to get in the last word. “And one more thing,” I said loud enough toward his retreating frame. “Perhaps you should go read the Book (the Qur’an) and the Hadith again, to really understand how to conduct yourself among people.” Words on deaf ears, I surmised as he continued in the direction of his family.
In the few minutes it took me to find another parking slot, my temper had cooled enough for me to face the throngs inside. Once inside, I raced over to where the batteries were located, picked up what my son needed and more, and headed toward the army of cashiers by the entrance. The place was swarming with people out on errands or an outing; families, kids, you name it.
Hypermarkets may soon put a lot of businesses out of business, I figured with their tolerant working hours. Customers are simply not going to put up with being shut out of the marketplace on afternoons when they have some free time on their hands. And these hypermarkets will eventually siphon off most of the business, while other establishments choose to slumber in siesta.
Noticing an express checkout stand with only a couple of customers waiting to pay for their goods, I made my way there only to be pushed back by a fully laden shopping trolley forcefully guided by a fully hooded lady, black gloves and all. This can’t be happening to me again, or is it?
“Excuse me, but this checkout stand is for ten items or less,” I stated politely in her direction, expecting that she was perhaps confused. It was a new hypermarket after all. She mumbled something back in my direction along the lines that it was OK, she knew that but she was a lady and she was alone. What did that have to do with shopping — I have yet to figure out.
I could have started another lecture and as well have been addressing a wall of granite, but I decided to leave well alone. Making my way over to another checkout stand, I asked myself: Do these people just adopt the cosmetics of what our religion preaches, or do they really understand the contents? It is not just beards and hoods, but Islam and its observance that is a way of life.
