Walking through Loblaw's market on McArthur Avenue in the east end of Ottawa, Ontario, Fatima Sayyid practically sauntered about, a coy smile on her lovely face. The tall and curvy, beautiful and conservatively attired, Hijab-wearing Arab Muslim woman packed her cart with healthy food and walked unfazed through the throngs of customers moving about. I feel good, Fatima thought to herself, still a bit sore from the sexual whammy that her lover Raul James laid on her a mere hour ago.
"That man's got the dick of death and he's going to kill my pussy," Fatima said to herself, her core still burning from Raul James unique brand of passionate lovemaking. The tall, handsome and fearless Haitian stud had to leave early for work, having been summoned all the way to Renfrew to do a drywall job for some rich folks. In his absence, Fatima went to do a little grocery shopping, intent on cooking a traditional Haitian meal and surprise her lover upon his return.
From numerous trips to Haitian restaurants around Ottawa such as Soleil Des Iles and Creole Sensations, both of which were located in the Vanier area, Fatima Sayyid had learned a lot about Haitian cuisine. A people's culinary arts told a lot about said people. In the Haitian people's case, their cuisine was hot, spicy and fearless, like the Haitians themselves. Raul James introduced Fatima Sayyid to Haitian cuisine, and now the Arab Muslim MILF couldn't get enough of it. Having looked up some Haitian recipes online, Fatima felt confident that she could whip up some tasty dishes that would make Raul melt...
"Someone sure seems happy," came a masculine voice, and Fatima turned to see who had spoken to her. The owner of said voice was a tall, slender Arab man with dark bronze skin and a grayish beard. Fatima blinked as she recognized Salim, a former associate of her late husband Salman Sayyid. Fatima narrowed her gaze, and looked Salim up and down. She had never gotten along with Salim, whom she thought of as a weasel. What did the fool want with her now?
"Any reason why I shouldn't be?" Fatima retorted, hands on her hips, and she looked at Salim haughtily. In the Middle East, women might be expected to be polite and downright deferential in their dealings with men, but not here in Ottawa. After a lifetime spent in the Canadian capital, Fatima had learned a lot from local women and didn't believe in putting up with men's bullshit. Arab or otherwise, Fatima saw no reason to kowtow to the male of the maligned human species.
"Well, Fatima, people talk, they say you're involved with a young Black man, I didn't want to believe it, since I know you to be a good Arab Muslim woman, I reserved judgement until I saw it for myself," Salim said, and he smirked at Fatima, as though he'd caught her doing something wrong. Fatima's reaction surprised the both of them. In an instant Fatima crossed the distance between the two of them, and she stood mere inches from Salim, who blinked in surprise.
"Salim, I do whatever the fuck I want, and yes, I'm seeing a Black man, and you know what? He's ten times the man you'll ever be," Fatima retorted angrily, and as Salim sneered, about to utter a vicious comeback, she slapped the fool hard across the face. It was the slap heard around the world. Everyone on the Loblaws floor turned to look at Fatima and Salim as the two of them squared off. Salim rubbed his face angrily and looked like he wanted to hit Fatima, but she glared at him menacingly and without a hint of fear in her brown eyes. Shaking his head, Salim walked away.
"You're a whore, Fatima, and you will pay for this," Salim said, and with that, he stormed out of the Loblaw's market as though the Devil himself were after him. Fatima watched him go, then sighed deeply. All she wanted was to live her life without the damn rules of Arab society, or indeed any rules other than her own. She'd wasted enough time being married to Salman Sayyid, a brutish man whom she did not love. Now, in her fifty seventh year upon this earth, Fatima finally found love, in the unlikely person of Raul James, Haitian student at Algonquin College, and amateur contractor. Why couldn't fools like Salim and his ilk leave her alone?
Fatima forced herself to be calm, unwilling to let this harrowing episode ruin her day. She put a smile on as she headed to the cash, and paid for her purchases with her BMO debit card. Returning to the parking lot, Fatima got in her car and drove away. Upon arriving home, Fatima set her grocery bags on the kitchen counter, and immediately began cooking. A couple of hours later, the meal was well underway.
After cooking, Fatima sat in the living room, and watched her favorite show, The Strain. After watching its epic finale, Fatima went to take a shower. When she came out of it, the sound of jiggling keys at the door startled her. A familiar figure strode through the newly opened door, and Fatima smiled at the handsome countenance of Raul James. Tall, dark and handsome, clad in a faded gray sweatshirt and blue jeans, Raul James smelled of drywall, and wood, and masculine sweat. All good things, as far as Fatima was concerned. Thus, wearing only her bathrobe, she went to greet her man with open arms...
