Halal Bacon?

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Being a taxi driver in Perth means you meet all kinds of people. Drunk philosophers, lost tourists, stressed-out parents who use the ride home as a free therapy session—you name it, I've had it in my backseat. But one of my favourite encounters? Hassan, the halal butcher, who managed to turn a regular Tuesday night into a deep existential crisis (with a side of lamb recommendations).

It started like any other ride. He got in, sighed like a man who had just carried a cow up a hill, and said, “Long day.”

Now, I’ve met plenty of tired people. Tired students, tired parents, tired divorcees who should NOT be texting their exes at 2 AM. But Hassan looked next-level exhausted.

“Busy night?” I asked.

He rubbed his eyes. “Busy every night. Everyone wants fresh meat. But do they want to wait for fresh meat? No.”

Ah, the universal struggle of service workers everywhere. I nodded in sympathy. “Patience is extinct.”

“Exactly!” He sat up, suddenly energised. “And on top of that, I must do everything properly, according to halal rules. It’s not just meat—it’s faith. You have to show respect to the animal, say a prayer, make sure it’s done humanely.”

He shook his head. “And then some guy walks in asking for ‘halal bacon’—”

I choked on my tea. “What?”

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