CARLA:
(Curt)
You lost?

YOUSEF:
(Smiling politely)
No, I’m here for dinner. I heard the burgers are good.

CARLA:
(Skeptical)
This is an American diner.

YOUSEF:
(Still calm)
And I’m an American. Born and raised in Ohio, actually.

CARLA:
(Scoffs)
You just don’t look like the kind of people who come here.

YOUSEF:
What kind is that?

(Beat. Carla doesn’t answer.)

YOUSEF:
Let me guess—someone who speaks English without an accent, looks like they played baseball in high school, and listens to country music?

CARLA:
I didn’t mean it like that.

YOUSEF:
Sure you did. You just didn’t expect me to understand it.

(A MANAGER walks by, noticing the tension.)

MANAGER:
Is everything alright here?

YOUSEF:
Depends. Is this place open to Americans, or just a specific kind?

MANAGER:
(Shooting Carla a look)
Sir, of course you’re welcome here. Carla—take your break. I’ll handle this table.

(Carla stiffens and walks away without a word. The manager smiles apologetically.)

MANAGER:
We’re glad you’re here. First time?

YOUSEF:
Yeah. But I hope it’s not the last.

By bessi

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