Burkatex Brides I and II

Burkatex Brides I

 

“Look at them,” he said, “Walking around here in their bloody burkas as if they own the place. It shouldn’t be allowed.”

I looked up from my pint to watch the three black-clothed individuals passing the window of the pub. “Erm…” I begin.

“I mean to say,” he continues, having only paused in his rant to down a mouthful of bitter, “why can’t they dress like normal people?”

“Erm, Jack…” I start.

“You don’t see us trying to force our religion down our neighbour’s throats….”

I remember being woken by Jehovah’s Witnesses, but know it’s a waste of time arguing.

Burkatex Brides II

 

A few minutes later, he nearly spits out his pint in disgust. “Look! More of them! Jesus H, they must have opened a mosque nearby!”

Crunching on my salt and vinegar crisps, I peer out of the window.

This time, the two pedestrians are male, bearded and wearing long brown robes. They are smiling and chatting amiable. A few people stop and stare at them as they walk down the street, but they pay no heed.

A few feet behind them is a young lady in metal bikini.

“They’re not muslims, Jack” I explain. “They’re going to the fantasy convention.”

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