A couple days ago I stopped at Fish Grill on Beverly Blvd. This is a kosher taco stand located in a largely Hassidic Jewish neighborhood of Los Angeles – a fact that I would normally barely notice.
So, I get in line – in front of me is a guy who looks to be about seventeen, and he is taking forever to order.
By forever I mean literally like two minutes, which is really a long time when you consider that there are probably five items on the menu – and he’s just staring at this board like he’s waiting for God to tell him what to eat – and I immediately hate him.
Aside from being an awkward teenager, wearing what appears to be a glued-on beard, he is sporting traditional Hassidic costuming, the significance of which is lost on me but includes baggy slacks, a weird frilly belt, white shirt, and enormous Abe Lincoln style hat.
Finally the guy completes his order – and goes to pay.
Before I finish this story, let me explain that I hate religious zealots of any ilk – especially Christians – so spare me your Nazi accusations or whatever. So:
He pulls out a wallet which is neon purple/orange and is emblazened with a Hebrew phrase.
At this point, since I already hate the guy, I find it annoying that his wallet has a bunch of Hebrew written on it, and I think to myself,
Hey, WE GET IT.
Stereotypes… My good friend Travis Simmons is a black man and claims he doesn’t eat chicken in public out of basic self-awareness. Being an Irish American, I would feel like a huge tool if I walked into a tavern carrying my own beer glass with a picture of a boxing glove tamped onto it.
Your total is $10.50.
Oh, I only have $9…
He glances over his shoulder at me. Not happening.
Don’t worry about it. Just take your number.
I order and sit down. I put on my headphones and pull up The Joe Rogan Experience on Stitcher and open an L.A. Weekly.
Someone walks into my field of vision. I see the guy’s mouth moving, so I take out my headphones.
What? I ask, annoyed.
Are you Jewish? He asks.
No.
I respond quickly. I don’t want to talk to this person.
I consider this interaction for half a second, and I figure I should ask the guy before it starts to eat away at me…
Why? I say as he’s leaving to bother someone else.
And seriously, I want to know – WHY does it matter.
He looks at me condescendingly and says, Oh, don’t worry about it.
I’m not worried about it, you fucking cult member weirdo. I finish eating.
On the way home I’m still pissed that the guy talked to me in that tone.
I call a friend of mine who is Jewish and grew up in New York city amongst many Hassidic people.
She explains to me that these people refuse to work, and spend most of their daytime hours reading the Torah.
They feel, in their hearts, that they’re doing every fellow human a favor by coming to a complete understanding of this religious text – and they think that everyone owes them something for their troubles, it is explained to me.
This is why the guy didn’t have enough money to pay for his tacos, it is explained to me – because he felt the restaurant should cut him a discount.
What would have happened if I told him I was Jewish, I ask.
It is explained to me that he would have spewed a bunch of religious bullshit at me and asked for a donation.
What an entitled cocksucker, giving me an attitude while he’s living the life of a glorified hobo.
The gall to act perturbed by someone that YOU were bothering is a level of narcissism I could never imagine approaching.
WHAT A DICK. I hate this guy, and he is one of the worst people I’ve ever met.