Here is a story about one of my many interactions with Muslim people....
I have personally never had a negative experience with a Muslim person. I have encountered many over the years through daily life, wrestling life, and my cultural explorations, and I call several my friends. Yet, these days the ignorant masses try to assure us that these people are blood-thirsty monsters ready to kill us all. It simply is not true. Here's one story:
A couple of years ago I was driving from home base Austin TX to San Antonio to see a Morbid Angel concert. Just as I arrived on the outskirts of San Antonio my tire blew. No problem, I went out and did my manly deed of changing to the spare tire and continued down the road towards the concert venue. Then the old spare blew less than a mile down the road. Now I'm in a predicament, broken down on a dangerous overpass.
It was night and my phone was dying and there were no open tire places nearby. So I decided to walk to the nearest Walmart seven miles away to buy a spare so I could limp the Jeep back to Austin. At this point I had given up on my chances to get to the concert, but as luck would have it I would see Morbid Angel (with a proper musician line up) two times in the year after.
The plan was to buy a tire and take a cab back to the Jeep. The price of spare donut tires had risen considerably since I last noticed, and I spent almost all of my $100 to buy the best one that could last the trip home. I figured I could carry it the seven miles back since I had no money left for a cab.
I left the store with the tire on my left shoulder. I stood there at the parking lot curb thinking of what I could do. From my right I heard a man's voice with a Persian accent.
He said "Brother, do you need a cab?"
I replied "No thanks. I spent all my money on this tire. I can walk back to my Jeep."
"Flat tire? How far is it?" he asked.
"It's far. Just over seven miles." I answered.
He said "Pahlavan, I see your ear. I will help you. I will give you a ride for free."
("Pahlavan" is a wrestling reference in Iran that means "champion". His reference to my ear was about my cauliflower ear, which is noticeable damaged cartilage from years of wrestling. Wrestling is a national sport in Iran.)
He gave me a ride all the way back to my Jeep and wouldn't even accept the $2.37 change I had in my pocket. His kindness helped me out, and it motivated me to get my task done.
During the ride we had some light conversation.
Driver: "Where were you going in San Antonio? To see a girl?"
Me: "No. I was going to see a concert."
Driver: "Which concert?
Me: "Morbid Angel."
Driver: "What kind of music is it?"
Me: "Heavy metal."
Driver: "Ah! Many people in my country like heavy metal!"
He dropped me off. I thanked him and he wished me well.
I put on the spare and drove 20 miles per hour on the service roads all the way back to Austin.
It was a long night for me, I missed the concert and spent many hours trying to solve the predicament, but it was made a little shorter and easier by a Muslim who treated me like a brother.
The moral lesson here about our society's general judgment about Muslims is one I had already learned, but it is worth sharing.
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