About being Jewish
I have something to reveal...
Since I was born in a Jewish state, not long after its formation, still heavily populated with inhumane sad stories of holocaust survivors, with their haunted looks of fear and desperation.
I grew up having a bit of a "Jewish prosecution complex."
I remember traveling in Europe as a child, acutely aware of the fact that the same people who allowed the holocaust to happen, were still alive and their ways of thinking not entirely changed.
So I learned not to mention being Jewish to anyone.
Because of my own sensitivity, I finally learnt not to see people through the eyes of religion at all.
But I am not here to bore you with another sad story about division and religions.... or reflect about how hard it is to be a Muslim in the world today.... I am simply here to entertain you.
It took a "New York City therapy," to finally heal me of my complex.
What do I mean by "NYC therapy?"
Surely I do not mean handing over hundreds of dollars an hour, to sit on a therapist's sofa, to hear that it is OK to be born whatever religion it is you were born into, and that there is no shame in it, nor fear of prosecution is called for at the present....
No, my form of "therapy" took dressing up in a nice evening dress, and going out to some of the fanciest bars and restaurants in the city.
I can see you frown.... What the heck is she talking about? You must be asking...
Well, let me explain.
It is a balmy evening in NYC.
Two girls get out of a taxicab.
They are sisters and they are dressed to kill.
We enter a trendy restaurant, and the host asks: "will you ladies, be dining with us this evening?"
"Well, yes indeed, thank you."
"Will you be requiring a quiet table at the back of the restaurant?"
My attractive sister, who is well versed in the ways of the birds and the bees, says NO!
Apparently, we will be dining at the bar, where the chances of meeting attractive guys are at their highest.
"Can I start you ladies with a glass of Zinfandel or a Pinot Grigio wine?"
"Yes, that would be lovely, thank you."
The food is always fabulous in these trendy restaurants.
They just do not employ a mediocre chef.
Five minutes into our meal, an attractive guy leans over my plate.
"I see you finished your glass of wine, can I buy you another?"
After a few sentences, I can see the wheels in his mind turning, he is trying to guess where my accent is from.
He knows that I was not born in the USA, but he just cannot place it....
So when his curiosity gets the better of him, he simply asks: "I love your accent, it sounds so European, where is it from? "
I always hesitate.... I have been asked this question, almost after hello... And I know that saying I was born is Israel, means that I am Jewish..... And I do not want him to go.... he has such lovely shoulders..... and he smells so good,..... and he has a smile that will make his dentist proud...
So I take a deep breath....... and I say that it is from Israel.
His eyes widened with delight.
"Really!"
He declares with joy.
"Then you are my absolute dream lady!
You see, my mother would just LOVE you.
If you'll allow me to bring you home to meet my mother,....... it will be a dream come true.
My mother always wanted me to marry a Jewish girl, but I wanted to marry outside of the tribe.
I like my woman to be very attractive, and the NYC JAPS (Jewish American Princesses,) that I've met, usually do not look as good as you... So what do you say Tali?"
He is almost visibly drooling on my dress...
Therapy session number one.
When it happened often enough, when guys started drooling after they've heard I was Jewish, instead of walking away, I became less afraid to mention it.
Many years later, and Many handsome guys, many dates, kisses and many dresses I had to dry clean from drooling, I no longer feel ashamed to mention it.
I did date that guy by the way.
He was a dentist (hence his perfect white smile), but he was less than perfect in bed.
Our "session in the sheets" lasted about three minutes, and he did not even offer an apology,.... or tried again.
Needless to say I did NOT go to meet his mother....
Since I was born in a Jewish state, not long after its formation, still heavily populated with inhumane sad stories of holocaust survivors, with their haunted looks of fear and desperation.
I grew up having a bit of a "Jewish prosecution complex."
I remember traveling in Europe as a child, acutely aware of the fact that the same people who allowed the holocaust to happen, were still alive and their ways of thinking not entirely changed.
So I learned not to mention being Jewish to anyone.
Because of my own sensitivity, I finally learnt not to see people through the eyes of religion at all.
But I am not here to bore you with another sad story about division and religions.... or reflect about how hard it is to be a Muslim in the world today.... I am simply here to entertain you.
It took a "New York City therapy," to finally heal me of my complex.
What do I mean by "NYC therapy?"
Surely I do not mean handing over hundreds of dollars an hour, to sit on a therapist's sofa, to hear that it is OK to be born whatever religion it is you were born into, and that there is no shame in it, nor fear of prosecution is called for at the present....
No, my form of "therapy" took dressing up in a nice evening dress, and going out to some of the fanciest bars and restaurants in the city.
I can see you frown.... What the heck is she talking about? You must be asking...
Well, let me explain.
It is a balmy evening in NYC.
Two girls get out of a taxicab.
They are sisters and they are dressed to kill.
We enter a trendy restaurant, and the host asks: "will you ladies, be dining with us this evening?"
"Well, yes indeed, thank you."
"Will you be requiring a quiet table at the back of the restaurant?"
My attractive sister, who is well versed in the ways of the birds and the bees, says NO!
Apparently, we will be dining at the bar, where the chances of meeting attractive guys are at their highest.
"Can I start you ladies with a glass of Zinfandel or a Pinot Grigio wine?"
"Yes, that would be lovely, thank you."
The food is always fabulous in these trendy restaurants.
They just do not employ a mediocre chef.
Five minutes into our meal, an attractive guy leans over my plate.
"I see you finished your glass of wine, can I buy you another?"
After a few sentences, I can see the wheels in his mind turning, he is trying to guess where my accent is from.
He knows that I was not born in the USA, but he just cannot place it....
So when his curiosity gets the better of him, he simply asks: "I love your accent, it sounds so European, where is it from? "
I always hesitate.... I have been asked this question, almost after hello... And I know that saying I was born is Israel, means that I am Jewish..... And I do not want him to go.... he has such lovely shoulders..... and he smells so good,..... and he has a smile that will make his dentist proud...
So I take a deep breath....... and I say that it is from Israel.
His eyes widened with delight.
"Really!"
He declares with joy.
"Then you are my absolute dream lady!
You see, my mother would just LOVE you.
If you'll allow me to bring you home to meet my mother,....... it will be a dream come true.
My mother always wanted me to marry a Jewish girl, but I wanted to marry outside of the tribe.
I like my woman to be very attractive, and the NYC JAPS (Jewish American Princesses,) that I've met, usually do not look as good as you... So what do you say Tali?"
He is almost visibly drooling on my dress...
Therapy session number one.
When it happened often enough, when guys started drooling after they've heard I was Jewish, instead of walking away, I became less afraid to mention it.
Many years later, and Many handsome guys, many dates, kisses and many dresses I had to dry clean from drooling, I no longer feel ashamed to mention it.
I did date that guy by the way.
He was a dentist (hence his perfect white smile), but he was less than perfect in bed.
Our "session in the sheets" lasted about three minutes, and he did not even offer an apology,.... or tried again.
Needless to say I did NOT go to meet his mother....
