I seem to have a fan club at Duane Reade with young Muslim girls wearing hijabs in assorted prints and colors.
Whenever I stroll in, which is daily, they are all so happy to see me, smiling and waving.
I guess this is because, I treat them in kind, oblivious that they’re Muslim.
They remind me of nuns who, when I was growing up their faces were hidden by what was called a wimple, where all you saw were their eyes, nose and mouth, all else covered.
These women are young and happy despite the rampant prejudice of their selected religion. I treat everyone the same, so for me, regardless of their head garb, they’re just a bunch of girls I tease.
“Is that an Hermes scarf tied around your head?”
“I vish,” one of them says
“It’s such a chic look, though hot I imagine.”
“Oh yes, veddy, veddy hot.”
“It’s very attractive, even if you’re sweating. Try dusting your neck with baby powder.”
They all giggled. “Like a baby’s ba-hind,” said scarf number three. She was a girl I helped once, but prefers, due to the circumstances, it not be mentioned. I wrote about it in, An Islamic Little Girl. https://athingirl.com/2016/04/01
“You would look veddy goud in a hijab. If you like, I make you one.” This stopped me in my tracks. Nothing like stepping into a girl’s scarf, so to speak.
“That’s so nice of you,” I said, “but I don’t, you know..I, I , I…
They giggled really hard this time. “I vas not sedious,” she said, grinning like a covered up imp.
Boy, did I feel like an asshole, but, alas, a veddy goud-natured one.