Thanks again to Khalid for the inspiration and input. Again, English translations are given for Arabic terms.
Salib felt that the worst part about being assigned police duty at the embassy was having to put up with the arrogant Marine guards. They always treated the Arab police as incompetent idiots. Considering these Arab officers served the very country the embassy was located, made it truly insulting. Among the worst however, was a young twenty-seven year old Marine called Harry. The brown haired, well-muscled, six foot Marine was particularly self-centered and had clashed with Salib on more than a few occasions.
Salib was drinking at a local bar when a clearly drunk Harry sauntered into it. He grinned when he saw Salib. He immediately sat next to Salib. It didn’t take long for another verbal confrontation to develop.
“Look,” a woozy Harry patronizingly said to Salib. “Marines are tougher and we fight better. One-on-one any Marine can kick an Arab cop’s ass on any day of the week.” He gazed with smug contempt at Salib who, though just as muscled, was only five foot nine inches.
“Tozz Feek{screw you},” Salib hotly replied. I can out box you anytime and anywhere,”
“Don’t be stupid,” a now amused, intoxicated Harry said to him. “I’m the embassy boxing champion. I’d beat you in the 1st round.”
“Care to make a bet on that Marine?” Salib replied. By now he was fed up with Harry’s boasting and felt it was time to put him in his place.
“You and me going at it,” Harry laughed. He stopped to take in Salib’s grim look. “Well shit. You’re fucking serious!” He laughed even harder before saying, “Your funeral so, yeah I accept your challenge. What do I get when I win?” He asked as a smirk came to his face
“Let’s make it interesting. The loser is the winner’s sharmout ,” Salib shot back. He saw a look of surprise appear on the Marine’s face.
“That’s a whore in Arabic isn’t it,” Harry asked. “You expect me to be your whore you, faggot?”
“That’s right American. If you lose then you are my sharmout . So, do you still accept my challenge or are you too sacred to agree to the stakes,” he added. He smiled at Harry knowing the drunk Marine was caught. He could either accept the bet or reject it. If he did the latter, it would be seen he feared he’d lose to the Arab policeman.
“Lose hell,” Harry angrily told him. “I accept. You win I’m your fucking sharmout . Not like that is ever going to happen.”
“On you honor as a Marine you agree that, if I win you’re my bitch and will do what I say,” Salib pressed to be doubly sure Harry wouldn’t back out. They both knew no Marine would disgrace their honor by welching on such a promise.
“Fuck yeah; you have it on my honor as a Marine,” Harry insisted. “Where and when?”
“Tomorrow night. Bring friends to watch. I will be bringing my fellow officers to watch when I beat you,” Salib said. “I’ll send directions tomorrow morning about the time,” Salib said. He got up. “Don’t pussy out on me,” he teased.
“Marines don’t pussy out,” Harry spat out. You are going to hate being my obedient bitch you Arab bastard, he thought as he watched Salib going.
Oh you will pussy, Ya Khara {you shit}, Salib told himself as he exited the bar.
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