“That’s right, camel jockey,” the man spewed. “What are you going to do about it?”
Those words were aimed at me, an 11-year-old Lebanese kid. They erupted from a young man whose anger and hatred seemingly came out of nowhere. He was working behind the counter of a pizza shop I had just ordered from. Minutes before, I looked back through the window after leaving with my pizza only to see him holding his middle finger up at me with disdain in his eyes. When I went back in to see if his gesture was aimed my way, that was his response to me: “camel jockey.”
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