She's doing one thing, and one thing only, in her swelling boredom, and that's being affectionate to me. Was I going to complain? No. I was enjoying it. Was someone else going to complain? Hmmm… Saturday morning, Lisa and I show up just as the Torah was being brought out for its reading, and the whole congregation was standing in honor of its presence, and talking and gossiping because, well, all the Jewish women in the community were in one place at one time - you think they'd be doing something else? Lisa and I make it to the couple of rows occupied by my ever growing family, and I'm greeting everyone, both relative and congregant, with a Shana Tova and Good Yontiv. Everyone's looking sharp, everyone's being friendly and smiling at even the most insignificant things. It was New Years, after all, and it was a joyous occasion. In the aisle, just one row behind my father, was an elderly man dressed in a light grey suit, white shirt, all white talit (even the lettering and pattern), and white cipah. "Shana tova," I greet him. "Shana tova." I'm about to turn away, when he grabs hold, gently, of my arm. "I saw you last night," he begins, "we sat behind you and we were watching as your girlfriend or fiancé was twirling your hair and rubbing your neck." I'm thinking that he's just going to pay Lisa and I a compliment on how loving we appeared to be together. We get that a lot when we go to temple - all the young couples do. "I was wondering if you wouldn't do that today." "What?" "Well, we found it rather distracting last night. So much so that it drew our attention away completely from the service." "Excuse me?" I'm getting quite aggravated right now. Old Jewish people, I tell ya', always picking fights with someone. "If you could just not do it today…" "How about you just get your wife to play with your hair," and I turned my back on him and walked away. What the hell is that? Now, you're probably thinking, "what kind of twirling was Lisa doing with Benjamin's hair that was so incredibly distracting?" Good question. Lisa wasn't doing ANYTHING out of the ordinary. Just little loving scratches and playful twirls of my hair, and that's it. But I've broken it down. Mr. Shmuck was upset for any number of reasons. 1 - He was bald, so the jealously of my thick and rich crop of hair must have pushed his buttons quite well. 2 - He's married to a battle-axe that won't even look at him unless he's in the way of what she wants to do. 3 - His wife used to have a right hand and twirled his hair long, long ago, but lost it to a tragic hair-trimming accident that also left him bald. 4 - As stated, he's just a shmuck, an old shmuck, an old Jewish shmuck that's run out of friends to bitch at, so he's setting his sites on the younger generation, believing that the whole 'respect for your elders' crap will come into play so insulting someone like me wouldn't backfire with my insulting him right back. Just you wait, Mr. Shmuck in the back row. Just you wait. Come Yom Kippur, when I'm desperate for something to get my mind off of fasting, I'm going to make sure Lisa subtly expresses her affection for me EXTRA thoroughly. You got that Old Putz In The Back Row!? EXTRA THOROUGHLY!!!!! |
