Yet another Gulf story!

Me:   Welcome to our bank sir, how can I help you today?
Him: Arabic….  Arabic???      Arabic!!!
Me:   That would be me, my name is Tony and I'll be happy to assist. 

He scans me twice from my head to my toe and though I don't want to make assumptions but from the friendly expression on his face, it seems that he does not like what he sees. Then the investigation as usual starts:

Him: What is your name besides that "Tony" you call yourself?
Me:   That's pretty much it sir, that's my name.
Him: Okay fine. What is your real name?
Me:  Tony is my real name
Him: But that's not an Arabic name. 
Me:  No, it is not an Arabic name, it is my name
Him: Oh so you're Americanized now. What is your Muslim name?
Me:  I don't have a Muslim name.
Him: What is that supposed to mean?
Me:   It does not mean anything tricky, just an answer to your question. 
Him: But you're Arabic.
Me:  I am Syrian and I speak Arabic. Let's get past the name issue, how can I help  
         you?

We open a bank account. During the seemingly endless painful process, he asks me how long has it been since I moved to the United States, what is my wife's nationality, how many kids I have, if it is me or my wife who is causing the problem of not having kids, if I owned my home, how much I make a year, if I pray regularly, if I cheat on my wife etc. Then he asks for my business card.

Him: Is the number on your card your cellphone number?
Me:  No, that's my bank phone number.
Him: Oh yeah! why don't you write on the back your cellphone number too!
Me:  My cellphone is for my personal use. You can reach me for your banking 
         needs at the number on my card.
Him: And what if my ATM card does not work at midnight? How can I reach you 
         then (felt like he added to this question the word "Smartass")?
Me:  You can call the number on the back of your ATM card, they open 24/7.
Him: But I do not speak English as you can see. (The tone was condescending)
Me:  Sure, just ask for an Arabic translator.
Him: Arabic translator!!! Then why are you working here? In my country we don't 
         even have to ask, the banker would voluntarily give us his phone number and 
         say to us "Call me for anything you need sir at any time". What kind of customer 
          service is this?
Me:  It's the American kind.
Him: Well it sucks
Me:   I'm sorry you feel that way.
Him: How old are you?
Me:   Well come to think of it, I am one year younger than you 
           Mr. xxx qahta xxxx mutair xxxx likha
Him: Oh please, no seriously, how old are you?
Me:   40
Him: I am forty one, how could you be 40?
Me:  That's simple, by being born forty years ago!
Him: But you look fifty Tony.
Me:  I can explain, working at this particular location for the past five years made me age a 
         little faster than I care for. I guess age is not my best friend. Luckily you look 
 and act like a 20 year old man ma sha allah aaleek!
Him: It was nice meeting you. 
Me:   Sure, the feeling is mutual!

I will need a glass of wine later, no seriously I know I will. I go to buy my favorite wine bottle from Trader Joe's and the cashier wants to card me and I go "Seriously? You want to check my ID?" She goes "Sir, better be safe than sorry, I need to make sure just in case". Me "God bless you young girl, I was just told I look 50 and here you are 5 minutes later wanting to card me. By all means take a look, you just made my day". And she did not make my day by making me feel younger, but by being nice and polite to me!

Mercy …..