Surreal for dinner

 Side thoughts to fill in the time in between posts:

1. With all the traffic and horns and motorcycles/motor scooters, and incredibly narrow  streets I am surprised that there are not more accidents.

2. My comments about being comfortable wearing a kippah are not exhaustive enough. I walk past restaurants with patrons sitting outside and I see people praying and swaying and no one bats an eye. This is comfort. When I go out with my tzitzit fringes untucked, that makes me fit in more (yes, with only certain sub groups but still) than looked at askance. 

I left early for my 7PM coffee meetup  so I could grab a bite to eat on the way. I wanted to give Lika pizza abother chance but when I got there I saw that it was closed. Their loss -- I am a very influential voice in certain circles. Certain very, very, very small circles. Like dots, but still, influential. I looked for other pizza options and saw none that are on Ben Yehudah/Yaffo.  There were signs to ones right off the main street but I hate to make detours. I'm wired like that. No side trips. I did see Pisgat Felafel. So what, you ask. Well, this place advertised itself as being vegetarian, selling no meat. This fascinates me. My previous experience with Israeli felafel places is that they are coupled with schwarma making them meat places (so I can't get felafel pizza which is one of the perfect foods in the world). This affiliation seems to be shifting which is interesting to me. I stopped in for a quick (25 NIS)  felafel figuring a real dinner later. It wasn't bad, so there's that. (note, I kept walking and saw Rony's pizza and one other place farther down, so had I been patient, I would have been rewarded with pizza, but I was not patient).

I wonder how Muslims feel. There are plenty of Muslim citizens of Israel and I'm not aking a question about rights, I'm asking about Channukah. With all the public displays of Channukah material (mostly channukiahs) and the sales and store displays and restaurants with lights etc, it must be off putting. Does it feel excusible making the Muslim feel the way a Jew (gesundheit) does in the US at Christmas time? Does it hurt or is it not noticed? Does it become a reminder of something political, turning even the most Israeli Muslim in some way into something unhappy?

I waited at Aroma and while I waited, I saw R. Pfeifer and the Mrs! I watched kids walk through Mamilla with boxes of jelly donuts, giving them away to celebrate Channukah. They gave them to everyone and anyone who wanted, without asking about religious afifliation or observance. That was nice. I saw black hatted young men march through carrying "Mashiach" flags.

Rachael showed up (she was killing time while her daughter took a Zoom class) and we got coffee and walked up the stairs first to the Jaffa gate, then to the benches at the foot of Yaffo street. We chatted about work, house remodeling, parenting and other boring adult subjects. In Jerusalem. 68 degrees. Very relaxing. The class ended so she had to leave and I wanted a real dinner.

I decided I didn't want the hustle and bustle of the shuk and wanted a proper sit down-waitress serves you kind of place. Two restaurants were next to each other -- Harvey's Steak House and Mike's Place. I'm not judging names. I'm sure that there are plenty of nice Harvey's but based on my internet research of menus and prices, Mike's seemed a better option -- cheaper and a more interesting menu. This is going to be my only "real" dinner so I want it to be the right choice. Mike's had soccer on the TV and classic rock (which I adnit, I miss) blasting through the sound system so, yeah, Mike's. I walked in and saw the woman standing by the door so I asked her for a table for one. She looked confused and then explained to me that she didn't work there. The bartender was downstairs and she was waiting for her food. 

Mistake number 12. I apologized profusely, feeling like an absolute idiot. I apologized again because once didn't make me feel any better,

The bartender returned with her food and I asked for a table. He advised me to sit anywhere (upstairs, downstairs, inside or out) and the waitress would come by to take my order. I picked a table right in front of the bar so I could watch soccer. Exciting. Real Madrid against someone and there was this guy who kicked the ball...it was incredible and stuff. The bartender asked me if I wanted a drink to start so I ordered a beer (a Guinness...go with what you know).

I nursed my beer as people came in and out, including the Schechters (she grduated a bunch of years ago). The music played and there was a live version of Jolene (which I assumed to be Miley Cyrus). A patron who seemed very comfortable with the place started criticizing it and said that it was a male singer. I asked him who and he went to check. 

Yes, mistakes were made.

He came back not knowing but that entree of mine emboldened him to sit at my table. We started talking. I asked him a couple of questions and he told me the story of his life (a series of disturbing events including a minor, controlled substances, a bipolar parent, Chabad mind control and some other stuff). The Tyler family dropped by to say hi (Hi, Tyler family). He also gave me some advice based on his life about how to treat migraines and other maladies. It was, to make a long story short (which he did NOT do) a ridiculously bizarre conversation. I drank my beer slowly but didn't want to leave to use the men's room as, TBH, leaving him alone with my stuff made me uncomfortable. If I knew him better maybe I'd not be so judgmental, but at this point, suffer me my judgmental nature. I just sat and listened wondering if I was being punked, if this was an eccentric millionaire and my interest was guaranteeing me a slice of something big, or if he was just a regular of the restaurant who sits with people and talks about martial arts, Israeli yeshivas and how sunflower seeds can clean up radiation poisoning of the ear caused by cell phones. 

I have his cell phone number if you want to whatsapp him and learn more. I'm gonna take a pause on that decision...

So while this hour plus long "conversation" was happening (he used to be a substitute teacher, a welder, and engineer etc) I noted that no waitress came by to take my order. This kept (not) happening. In fact, the waitress did come by the bar to pick up drinks for other tables and sing along with the music playing, and while I saw other tables get drinks, I didn't see any food delivered to anyone except a basket of fries to a table that the waitress hung out with (and she ate some of the fries). 

Eventually, I found an unnatural break in conversation and did the whole "well...time to hit the ol' highway..." and asked for the check. No, I did not pay for his ginger ale. I wished him well and got out, regretting not finding a bathroom but eager to put distance between me and Mr. Jack Silver of Baltimore and eventually Jerusalem because the temperature is good for his migraines.

I walked back rather quickly, and at one point ducked into a restaurant which appered not to be closed, willing to order anything in order to use the bathroom. But things were closing up so I had to start the race to the finish. I made it to N+D and used the facilities. Now, not having had any dinner I am going to hide out in my room, worried that there will be a knock on the door and Mr. Jack will be wanting me to come out and play.