Shlomit says that she can’t help it, but she is a little bit racist. It had to be today, of course, everyone is thinking about it, that’s what it’s for.
Tag: Tel Aviv
Homecoming
I wasn’t anxious about crashing, but about landing.
In the beginning…
I was as nervous as a whippet. Leaving London, leaving England, filled me with fear.
The things I’ll miss…
I’d ask myself, How did I get here? How did this happen? then remember, and forget again, and carry on like everything was normal, which of course it was.
Efrat
He’d tell me fragments about himself, but not much more. He was like a 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle to which I’d only found the corners.
Another Friday night
Alberto did something to displease a Russian customer, who, as a sort of warning, mimed slitting his throat.
Yaron
His most recent relationship had been with a pre-op f-m sex change, but Yaron grew bored and ended it.
Waiters
Waiters tap their fingernail impatiently on the table and remind you, sternly, that the bill doesn’t include a tip, even as they hand you the menu.
Beginnings. Endings.
I have a memory of a group of us dancing on a pontoon on the lake one Friday night that I think about if ever I need to reduce my blood pressure.
Nerves
He’s in Israel ‘in case’, and I know that the case he’s most nervous of is Muslims taking over Germany. Israelis, as far as I can see, think that’s something that’s already happened.
Mike
After exertions, he told me more about his life. He is, of course, involved with someone, blah blah, they’re breaking up, blah blah, or maybe not, blah blah.
Today’s business
“You’re in the land of Zion,” now, he shouted, “you’re in the land of the Jews!” He was obviously a lunatic, but I didn’t want to back down.
A fine day
With the sort of froideur you only find in people in glass booths or servants of minor European royalty, he told me to take a number.
Ship of fools
On my birthday I go to an exhibition. Its themes are: death, separation, misery, gloom. Everything but fun. Perfect!
Sausage party
What I missed, every day, yearned for, actually, was a British-style pork sausage. I dreamt of them. At least I think it was sausages I saw in my dreams.
Ido
It may have been my sympathetic manner, it may have been the badge that says ‘Cock’ that I wear on my lapel, maybe it’s Maybelline, who can tell, but Ido soon began to tell me scandalous stories about his busy sex life.
Slow learners
Vera said, for everyone to hear, ‘Jews want money, of course,’ and laughed.
A Frankfurter
He said he’d had a headache, and had to pack, but I knew that it was love that had made him a liar.
Sexy country
He was the colour of honey, a few freckles across his shoulders, his pale-pink nipples catching the sunlight.
Little Miss Sunshine
She killed more bees, just so she could fill the tiny bee graves she’d dug.
Telling Gloria
She said she’d visited my father’s grave and told him my news. He was, I understand, thrilled by it.
Gay Seder
The service was conducted, of course, by a large angel with glitter in her hair.
Independence Day
If you’re thinking of seeing the Ministry for yourself, it is probably wise to take sandwiches, a thermos and maybe a sleeping bag.
A hairdon’t
Finally, I sat in the barber’s chair. “Not too short,” I said. “You want me to cut your eyebrows?” he asked.
The silliest sausage
At the launderette, an elderly man took off his trousers, put them into the dryer without washing them. He sat on a chair and offered me a cigarette.
The beach
I have measured out my life in expensive hotels, it seems, and I gauge my tan in types of honey. I am now millefiori, and aspire to castagna.
Last day at the ulpan
She danced with Alberto, I don’t know why, the joy and sadness of the occasion, I suppose.
Sherlock Holmes and the missing condoms
Unusually for Israel, this Land of Blutos, he had no beard, no stubble, no hairy chest. He said, “Let’s go in,” so in we went.
A year ago
I’ve decided to stop saying goodbye, and start saying hello, instead.
Mental hygiene
Maybe everyone thinks it’s his costume for Purim, a Bacon painting of a Screaming Pope.
White Meat 