Muffin Kelp (My Arabic Spelling for “Dirty Dog”)

You know how small, yappy dogs just make you want to kick them and send them sailing across the room? That’s how I sometimes find people from minor, unimportant countries. Most of the time I ignore them and their constant yapping, but a couple times I’ve had enough and enjoy watching them sail through the air after my foot finds their scrawny little bodies. Lucky for me, there aren’t a lot of the annoying lap dog types of people here. Lucky for them, my mom did her best to raise a sweet daughter who usually doesn’t resemble an attack dog.

At work one day, I met a Canadian who invited me to dinner with some of her friends. I usually like Canadians, and I always like dinner, so I accepted the offer. I hopped in a cab with her and her roommate from New Zealand, and we drove to Saudi Arabia’s version of Chili’s (I know, I was disappointed at the restaurant choice, too). Apparently American restaurants don’t play the gender-segregation game as rigorously as anywhere else in Riyadh, so we joined the Canadian’s boyfriend and two friends from his nerd herd. All the guys were from the States, and the four of us found ourselves under attack within the first fifteen minutes.

The only other person from New Zealand I've met here attacked the US a lot until I told her she was being rude, then made her look like a fool the next time she had anything to say about my country. I blew that girl off for trying too hard to be funny, but apparently she wasn't the outlier I thought she was. Seems like people in New Zealand have limited conversational skills, so they resort to putting down people from a country they don't even know except for what they see in the movies and on our tv programs because they can‘t produce enough of their own entertainment.

When this New Zealander flexed her lingual muscles and said her first anti-American comment, and the Canadian's boyfriend took her down. She said another, and I nailed her. The boyfriend, my new tag-team buddy, looked as annoyed at this yappy New Zealander as me, so we ignored her for awhile and made fun of New Zealand's insignificance in the world. We laughed about New Zealand's stupid holiday where they train sheep to do tricks, and how insecure people from little countries feel the need to take on countries much bigger and better than their own. The fun, cruel conversation with this nameless American guy made up for the ordinary food in an exotic country.

Funny enough, the New Zealanders I've met so far don't understand that what makes up a country is the people in it. Americans are fighters. We're the German shepherds of the world. Which country has more soldiers in more countries than the US? I don't need to answer that one. Not only that, but the people in my country know how to fight. Many of us try to avoid conflict, but you poke us enough, we'll beat the crap outta you, especially if the odds are in our favor like that. The boyfriend and I ridiculed every stupid thing that escaped her mouth until she finished yapping. For awhile I thought that maybe we went a little too far, then she nearly invited herself on my trip to Turkey. Bummer she had a trip to Oman planned that same time. I would have loved to have the equivalent of a rat terrier ruin my first trip outside of Saudi.

On the car ride home, she told me she was so glad we hung out, and that I have "an interesting sense of humor." Yeah, it's called Making Fun of Jerks. When you're ready for your next beating, come on over and make fun of my country again. It's kinda fun being mean to rude people.