A Jordanian Battle in Vegas

Location: The Treasure Island hotel in Las Vegas.

Time: Last week

People:

1- Hareega with brother and father

2- Cousin (of my father's age) and his wife.

Cousin, "What do you wanna do now?"

As usual, I suggest eating.

Hareega: "Wanna eat in their buffet?"

Cousin, "Yes, I'll wait for my wife to come back from the restroom"

Hareega, "Ok I'll go get the tickets for tonight's show then I'll see you at the buffet, join us when your wife comes back"

I got the tickets then headed toward the buffet. You have to pay first, so I stepped forward to one of the cashiers and handled her my credit card.

"Five people please"

As she took my credit card, I saw my cousin from a distance. Our eyes met. He saw me handling the credit card to the cashier lady and he knew it: he realized I was about to pay for him and his wife.

In the blinking of an eye, he started running to the cashier. My 60-year old cousin was running faster than Sa3eed Owaitah. He pushed aside a couple of people waiting on the line and threw his credit card on the lady's desk.

He looked at me straight in the face, "Shame on you, shame on you", he screamed.

I screamed back, "No way you're gonna pay, no way", then I looked back at the cashier lady and lowered my voice but spoke seriously, "I gave you my card first, you gotta use my card, OK?"

The little lady took my card and was about to process it, but my cousin's voice escalated, "No, take my card ...."

The little Asian lady sitting was confused. "I don't know what to do! I don't know what to do!"

I told her, "Just take my card"...

My cousin looked back, "I swear by the life of Badee3a that I'll pay"

Badee3a is a close relative but I'm not sure what exactly is her relationship to me. There's also more than one Badee3a in the family, all of them are born before 1920. They are frequently sworn by the Masannats. To be the person sworn by is a great privilege in any Jordanian family.

I was confused now, thinking to myself, "I still have to pay, but he's just sworn by Badee3a"

I still had to show resistance.

"I'll pay this time, you pay next time"

My cousin was furious, "No, I swear by the souls of Fatha (his late mother) and Metri (my late grandfather) that I will pay. Put your card back in your pocket. Khallisni"

I realized that I just lost the battle. Nobody dares to resist swearing by the lives and souls of Badee3a, Fatha and Metri. Without uttering a word, I placed my card back in my wallet.

I was really surprised security did now show up to the scene.

Observing the sorrow in my eyes, once nice couple offered to help, with the man saying, "Hey man it's OK you can pay for us if you want".

I didn't answer and stepped forward towards the restaurant, drowned with my defeat and silenced by my shame. Although that had saved me more than a 100 dollars, it left my dignity with an open wound that time will not heal. The delicious food could not overcome the bitter taste of defeat. Since that day I started reconsidering my tactics for next battle.