Texas airport while awaiting their flights.
One is an American Indian passing through from Lame Deer, AZ. Another is a
Cowboy on his way to Dallas for a livestock show and the third fella is a
fundamentalist Arab student, newly arrived at Texas State University from
the Middle East.
Their discussion drifts to their diverse cultures. Soon, the two Western
fellas learn that the Arab is a devout, radical Muslim and the
conversation falls in to a lull.
The Cowboy leans back in his chair, crosses his boots on a magazine table
and tips his big sweat-stained hat forward over his face.
The wind outside is blowing tumble weeds around and the old windsock is
flapping; but still no plane in sight.
Finally, the American Indian clears his throat and softly he speaks, "At
one time my people were many, but sadly, now my people are few."
The Muslim student raises an eyebrow and leans forward, "Once my people
were few, He sneers, "and now my people are many. Why do you suppose that
is?"
The Texas Cowboy shifts his toothpick to one side of his mouth and from
the darkness beneath his Stetson Hat says "That's cause we ain't played
Cowboys and Muslims yet, but I reckon it's a commin."
