Lunch Hour

My boss never makes me make him lunch. He gets the "girls" to do it for him, usually. But he knew they were exceptionally busy and asked me to make him tuna with a little mayonnaise on 2 pieces of brown bread with a tomato on top. I went down to the kitchen to find some whole-wheat bread which was frozen. He didn't ask for toast - if I make him toast, I'll be toast. So I toasted it just a bit to defrost it, praying it won't toast. I hoped the mayo was just the right amount. Who knows what exactly is "a little mayonnaise?" I even cleaned his plate before I put the food on it.

He began to eat it and talked to me while eating, nearly choking on the food. I was totally startled. Was the toast too dry? Was the tuna dry? Was he thinking I did this on purpose?

During our staff lunch meeting today I mentioned I had British non-Jewish relatives who recently found out about our side of the family.

"Doesn't that bother your brother?" asked someone?

"No, not at all. Think of the poor British guy who just discovered not only that part of his family is Jewish, but that they're Israeli to boot. How awful is that?"

But it wouldn't have been awful in America where it's cool to be a Yid. Look at Matisyahu. Look at wanna-be-Jew Madonna (even though she lives in the UK -she's still a Yank).

The discussion turned to soccer. One guy said he doesn't want to go to soccer games because the Jerusalem fans are so racist. But he does enjoy the game.

I asked - "Then why should they have all the fun? Let us Arab-loving Jews go to all the games and take over the stadium, dammit."

Heh heh - sounds like another project to take on this year...