When I returned to the class, our teacher Ms. Peggy asks me ‘Fishy what prompted your abrupt departure? Too good for French television?’ ‘on the contrary Pegs,’ I answered, ‘I’m just not going to watch that bullshit, pardon my French,’ everyone laughs, because I answered her in English, not in French, which is a big no-no. ‘I’m looking for a good cowboy?!’ I exclaim. ‘you know what the worst part is? he’s not kidding. Your French television makes light of it, thinks its funny… but he’s not kidding… he’s totally serious. But you guys just don’t even recognize it. he’s not fooling around. this guy is a cowboy and lets not forget it. and there’s nothing cute or funny about cowboys… I don’t know about you, maybe its just because you are new to our country Pegs, and so you don’t know, but when I think of cowboys, I think of a bunch of cocky idiotic uneducated murdering fuckhead bastards killing native Americans and stealing their land and raping their women… growing up watching cowboys on TV, that’s what cowboys mean to me.’
This really sexy girl in our class from the country of Jordan looks at me with her eyes wide open, ‘wow. Too bad more people don’t feel like you do Fishy.’ she says in more of an English accent than a middle eastern one. ‘You are very bold to think like that.’ ‘yeah. It is too bad Ines,’ I answer her. you could see and feel my displeasure and my anger at having to watch that news piece. ‘The most dangerous terrorist on the planet today is traveling around to all of these different countries this week, and every one of these countries had an opportunity to stand up and speak their mind. All they had to do was refuse to allow him into their country and they really could have made their point that they didn’t agree with his invading Iraq but instead they let him in and spent the last four days showboating and pretending for the TV cameras. And he has the nerve to say he’s looking for a good cowboy. What the fuck do you think he means by that?’
