But she can’t be one of them

Ashley and I went with his best man and his wife to kosher stalwart Solly’s this evening. The restaurant’s beginning to take the piss a bit, with poorer service and smaller portions of side dishes (though typically delicious huge main courses), but that’s by the by. There was a couple sitting at the table behind our friends. I paid them not the slightest bit of notice but Ashley was clocking their behaviour…

I habitually wear a cross, generally my late maternal grandmother’s silver cross. It’s not particularly big, but being metallic and unusual in that part of town (in spite of the Greek Orthodox Church across the road) it probably does attract attention. Apparently the couple opposite were turning round to quite openly stare at my chest repeatedly. At first Ashley wasn’t sure why – I suppose because he’s used to living with my religious paraphernalia, as I am with his various kippot, chanukiah and mezzuzah which we really ought to get around to re-sticking by the door one of these days. After he twigged, however, he began to get annoyed. He thought about saying something, but being, like me, naturally non-confrontational, was ready to just roll his eyes and forget about it.

He ended up smirking.

As the couple paid up and left, he heard the man commenting as he headed out of the door: “But she looks so Jewish!”.

Love it.

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