Ain't I a Jew?

So I’m a terrible Jew and I’ve come to terms with that. Yes, I was bar mitzvahed, yes I went to Hebrew School and yes I was most definitely circumcised (on my dining room table in fact, a detail my mother loves to pepper into polite dinner conversation.) But apart from that, I’m a completely secular Jew. I choose to celebrate my heritage by indulging in my anxiety and neurotic disorders rather than praying on a bima.

But recently a good friend of my asked me to attend Yom Kippur services, and so I put down my bacon cheeseburger, strapped on my teffilin and left for the synagogue for the first time in 5 years (Actually I embellished: I don’t own teffilin, it’s a tad bit too S&M for my tastes.)

So basically, Yom Kippur is a nightmare service. To begin, you aren’t allowed to wear leather or suede shoes which leaves you with very little choice- except to judge everyone’s fashion faux paus. Look, I know the shoe restriction is difficult, but guys - you can’t wear a suit with Chucks anymore, 2006 is over. And women, there are definitely wedge espadrilles on the market. I’ve seen them. So buy them. And for all: Crocs are NEVER an option. EVER. As for me, I was stuck wearing vans, pissed off that my Florsheims sat at home, all gussied up with no place to go.

So thanks a lot, God. (When I’m hit by lightning, we can all point to this quote.)

But anyway, the service began. Now Yom Kippur service is where you’re supposed to apologize for all the sins you made during the year. And I was down, until I realized that half of the sins listed where cornerstones of my life. Do I really have to apologize for “jealousy?” I mean, for god’s sake, I’m not gonna smack a bitch point blank in the face, at least allow me to think terrible things about her. And I’m not allowed “lusty, wanton glances?” How else am I supposed to get laid? Apologize for “sexual deviancy?” Well, maybe you have a point there.

Anyway, after davening enough for the rest of my life, I said bye to my friend, and met up with another group of friends at a bar where I loosened my tie, took a shot of Jack, and thanked the good Lord that he provided us with the knowledge to ferment wheat and barley.

And then two days ago, sitting at an outdoor café, a little Jewish boy walked by me. He was one of the Lubavitch ones (black hat, tzitzit, etc.) and he was holding a lulav and etrog, trying to get people on the street to pray for Sukkot. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw this little boy walk past me, stop to look at my side profile, and then swing back to around with the question “Are you Jewish?”

“Yes, yes, I am” I replied, staring the little asshole right in the face.