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Feeling nasty again and I wants to get off.

I smiled and told her Vin Diesel was gearing up to star in a movie adaptation about the life of General Hannibal Barca, the legendary North African military leader who almost destroyed the Roman Empire during the wars between the Carthaginians and the Romans.

Farah Al-Rashid laughed out loud and people all over the library stared at us as she went on and on about how much she loved the story of Hannibal Barca. I always loved ancient history courses so I knew a lot about Hannibal Barca. Farah told me that the Carthaginian General Hannibal Barca's heroic exploits were dear to her because she was of partial Tunisian descent. Her father Ahmed was Tunisian and her mother Fatima was originally from the nation of Djibouti. Farah was born in the City of El Mourouj in the republic of Tunisia. Wow. Man, I was surprised to hear that. I thought Farah was Somali and told her as much. Laughing, she told me that most Somali people lived in two places, the republic of Somalia and the nation of Djibouti. They considered themselves one people. Wow. I didn't know that. Farah and I spent the better part of an hour talking about Arab and African politics, and she seemed really surprised that a Black guy from the United States of America knew so much about life on the other side of the world. I told her that the rumors about African American men being intellectual slouches were greatly exaggerated. Plenty of us hit the books instead of the basketball court. She laughed at that and nodded understandingly. Where did everybody get the stereotypes about Black folks?

Yeah, that's how I met Farah Al-Rashid. I caught her glancing at her watch and hesitated. She had somewhere to go. I came to the library to do research for my sociology class and ended up flirting with a hot chick. I had to get her number and quick. It's now or never. You never get a second chance to make a first impression. I crossed my fingers, and opened my mouth. Before I could say anything, Farah flashed me a bright smile and asked me for my digits. What the fuck? That's my line! I was stunned, but not so much that I didn't tell her. Six one three. Eight nine seven. Something plus something plus something plus something. Farah smiled, winked at me and told me she'd be in touch. I grinned, and asked her to text me so I'd have her number. Smiling, she nodded. I watched her walk away, gawking at that mesmerizing big round ass of hers. Damn. Somali women got it going on!

I smiled to myself, feeling pretty good. It's ten o'clock on a boring Monday morning. I didn't have class until two and I've already got the phone number of a seriously hot chick. Not just any hot chick. A hot Somali chick. In Canada, two kinds of women are hard to get. Somali women and Arab women. Actually, Indian women are hard to get too, so I guess three kinds of females are hard to get. Somali women, Arab women and Indian women. These ladies are very beautiful but seldom date men outside their cultures, races and religions. I lucked out by getting Farah's number. Actually, I looked at my phone and realized that I didn't have her number, even though she texted me. Oh, shit. I forgot that I don't have call display on this crappy TELUS phone! I rushed to the Rideau Shopping Center downtown and asked the clerk at the cell phone store to hook me up with call display. He agreed, and told me there would be a monthly charge. I crossed my fingers and smiled. Then I turned my phone back on. Luckily, the last text I received displayed. Farah Al-Rashid's phone number. Nice. I promptly saved it. Phew. That was a close one, eh?

Yeah, I got Farah's digits.

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