By Lisa L. Kirchner
Sunday, February 8, 2009; Page W31
It was Thursday, the Friday of the Muslim workweek. I needed to leave behind the five long days I'd spent at my marketing job in Qatar and wrap my hands around my lifelong love, a Dairy Queen Buster Bar. That it was February made little difference; as I careened through Doha's life-threatening traffic, my car's thermometer hovered around body temperature.
"Finish!" the girl at the drive-through announced, smiling and blinking at me in the late-day sun. After two years of living in this Persian Gulf country, I could interpret her meaning easily: They were out of Buster Bars. (more Washington Post)
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1 comments:
Thanks for answering my questions. I am recommending that everyone I know who worked or still works in Doha read your article.
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