Living in the land of the free
Did he just ask that? "Are you a terrorist?" Jeremy threw that question at me as I was about to part my jaws for a big sigh of relief for completing a stressful day at the office. Caught in an awkward situation, I answered, "NO" straight to his face. Jeremy is no friend. Neither is he an acquaintance. He merely saw me going out of Wecota Hall at around midnight last weekend after I finally called it a day from work. Suspecting that he was waiting for a friend to come out from the back door of the Wecota student dorm, I calmly strode past him with one thing in mind: to get myself home. Such was my luck that when I started pacing fast, he shouted, "Hey!" With only the cacophony of the snow drifts between us, I knew he was trying to catch my attention. I stopped. I looked back at him with my hood still covering my head. "Were you the Vietnamese I saw in the bar?" he asked. "I'm afraid I am not," I responded while trying to gestur...