Mike thought that working for the CIA would be exciting, but monitoring phone calls made by persons of suspicious ethnicities turned out to be painfully boring. There was one plus: Mike overheard hundreds of recipes exchanged by old ladies of every nationality imaginable. As his wife was an enthusiastic chef, Mike enjoyed exotic dinners every night.
After 9-11, Mike hoped for a promotion. Instead, he was assigned to eavesdrop exclusively on Middle Easterners. Eventually Mike's wife threatened to leave him unless he started spying on a greater variety of races. Mike couldn't blame her; he was getting sick of falafel himsel.
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