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rlfjr
02-09-2003, 12:42
Three strangers strike up a conversation in the passenger
lounge in Bozeman, Montana, awaiting their flights.
One is an American Indian passing through from
Lame Deer. Another was a cowboy on his way to
Billings, Montana for a stock show. The third passenger
is a fundamentalist Arab student, newly arrived at Montana
State University from the Middle East.

Their discussion drifts to their diverse cultures. Soon the two
Westerners learn that the Arab is a devout, radical Moslem.
The conversation falls into an uneasy lull.

The cowboy leans back in his chair, crosses his boots on
a magazine table, tips his big sweat-stained hat forward
over his face. The wind outside blows tumbleweeds, and
the old windsock flaps; but no plane comes.

Finally, the American Indian clears his throat and softly,
he speaks: "Once, my people were many...now we are few."

The Moslem student raises an eyebrow and leans forward,
"Once my people were few", he sneers, "and now we are
many. Why do you suppose that is?"

The Montana cowboy shifts his toothpick to one side of
his mouth and from the darkness beneath his Stetson says
in a drawl, "That's 'cause we ain't played Cowboys and
Moslems yet".

4GunsNow
02-09-2003, 12:58
That was funny... :)