Not Chosen, Just Posin'

I just got a job with a Jewish magazine. I'm not Jewish. They think I am.


Tuesday, September 05, 2006

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Dressed in her Shabbat finest...


On Friday night one of my friends—the “Man Whore”—called me and told me he was bringing out some Israeli girl he met at the gym. Fittingly, he’s a personal trainer. He uses his job to meet girls and I can’t think of the last time he went out without one.

The Man Whore is a loosely Catholic, Puerto Rican guy who has a fascination with Jewish girls and Indian girls, but needless to say, he likes all girls. When I received his call, I was out to sushi with my girl. I told him to come and meet us, and we’d go out from there.

We were at a new B.Y.O.B. sushi place so we had a bottle of wine. The people who were sitting next to us left us a few beers they didn’t finish. We saved them for the Man Whore and his date. In they walked. The Man Whore’s date was decent at best. His girls never live up to the lore. Then again, how could they? He speaks very passionately about women. The Man Whore exclaimed that they had just eaten Shabbat dinner. I almost choked on my Hamachi. I could tell he was putting on a show for the girl, who seconds later, told us that the Man Whore was going to move to Tel Aviv with her. This time I actually did choke.

I offered the Man Whore a beer. He took it. His date said she didn’t drink beer and the Man Whore asked if the wine we had was kosher. I never knew exactly to what lengths the Man Whore would travel for a piece of ass. The Man Whore had reached a new level with this one. He had converted for the night.

“I’m kosher,” she said in her Israeli accent. By the look of her tight, backless dress, I already knew this was a classic good girl act. “No, you’re not,” I refuted. “If you were kosher you wouldn’t be out on Shabbat. [I just assumed that was true]. Here’s some wine.” She drank it like a fish.

From there we got into an argument about whether or not giraffes were kosher. She said no, I said yes. I have to admit to picking this fight, since it’s my favorite new piece of trivia. I pulled up the proof on my phone and shut her up for a while. My girl was cracking up. This chick was a joke. My friend lectured me on the way out of the restaurant, “Why do you always have to be so confrontational? Can’t you just leave it alone?”

Absolutely not. This is what makes religion so much fun! Seriously, I live for these moments.

Long story short, when we arrived at the bar, the “kosher” girl proceeded to talk to every girl in the place and told my girl she didn’t even like guys. “I like girls,” she declared as she grabbed onto the stripper-looking girl at the bar. You know your game is lacking when even the stripper’s not interested in playing along. It wasn’t too long until she was grabbing my girl’s ass and telling her she wanted to kiss her. Any other guy might be into this. I’m not, especially when the girl in question is a phony. Plus, you know – it’s against my religion. Us Catholics, we don’t really get into all of that.* That's only for kosher Jewish girls.. On Shabbat.

*To be fair, rumor has it we like little boys.

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