I kindly decline, and before I finish my well-practiced reply of "No, I'm sorry!" they have already turned away in search of their next invitee.
The thing that strikes me is that the guys are always young, unmarried (no beard), and extremely awkward-looking. The kid who approached me this year (he was probably about eighteen) had glasses, braces, and a face full of pimples. I'm guessing that this greet-on-the-street custom must be a right of passage of some sort. If the kid makes enough connection, his position in their social hierarchy is elevate and, who knows, maybe he gets to hang out with the cool kids.
I do feel badly for these poor fellows. My heart has a tender spot for socially awkward people, for those unaccepted outsiders who experience volumes of pain and rejection during adolescence. But the fact is that I'm not Jewish, and quite frankly, that leaf thing seems just a little too weird for comfort.
Help me out here, guys. Meet me halfway. Next year, maybe bring along some Girl Scout cookies. I'll buy a box.
Copyright © 2016 Daniel R. South
Copyright © 2016 Daniel R. South
All Rights Reserved
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.