Whenever I drink too much, a few things happen.
1. I'm drunk.
2. I somehow become even more Jewish (i.e even more annoying).
3. I'm loud (surprise!), but not just any kind of loud, the worst kind of loud, the performative kind of loud; where I shout instead of speak, and end every sentence with the word "bagel".
4. Anyone that snubs me, or walks passed me without saying hello is considered anti-semitic.
5. I brag about my accomplishments. Of which I have two: 1. I was once voted “Most Outrageous” during graduation ceremony at the New York Center for Broccoli Studies. 2. I was awarded "Least Racist Detainee" by the head social worker at San Quentin (where I spent two weeks one summer- but that’s another story).
6. I have “one way conversations” wherein I talk to you for 20 minutes about that time I swore I had Leprosy "but turns out it was just crabs."
7. I make statements and back them up with stories instead of facts.
I'll say things like like: "Every Jew has the right to say their father is a lawyer."
And then I'll tell a story about how I once threatened a librarian with that line.
" I tried walking past the check-out desk with a bag full of un-scanned books ( I even threw in a few Holocausty tear- jerkers at the top of the pile), only to hear the alarm wail like my brother when he didn't get a Playstation for Hanukkah. I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly stuck in the back of my head."
"Don't bother charging me", I told the librarian, "my dad's totally a lawyer".
"Turns out the librarian was Quaker. Who knew?" (I throw my arms up for dramatic effect.) "Apparently Quakers don't have feelings."
"It's true!" I'll shout, as you back away. "I read it somewhere online"
1. I'm drunk.
2. I somehow become even more Jewish (i.e even more annoying).
3. I'm loud (surprise!), but not just any kind of loud, the worst kind of loud, the performative kind of loud; where I shout instead of speak, and end every sentence with the word "bagel".
4. Anyone that snubs me, or walks passed me without saying hello is considered anti-semitic.
5. I brag about my accomplishments. Of which I have two: 1. I was once voted “Most Outrageous” during graduation ceremony at the New York Center for Broccoli Studies. 2. I was awarded "Least Racist Detainee" by the head social worker at San Quentin (where I spent two weeks one summer- but that’s another story).
6. I have “one way conversations” wherein I talk to you for 20 minutes about that time I swore I had Leprosy "but turns out it was just crabs."
7. I make statements and back them up with stories instead of facts.
I'll say things like like: "Every Jew has the right to say their father is a lawyer."
And then I'll tell a story about how I once threatened a librarian with that line.
" I tried walking past the check-out desk with a bag full of un-scanned books ( I even threw in a few Holocausty tear- jerkers at the top of the pile), only to hear the alarm wail like my brother when he didn't get a Playstation for Hanukkah. I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly stuck in the back of my head."
"Don't bother charging me", I told the librarian, "my dad's totally a lawyer".
"Turns out the librarian was Quaker. Who knew?" (I throw my arms up for dramatic effect.) "Apparently Quakers don't have feelings."
"It's true!" I'll shout, as you back away. "I read it somewhere online"
A bad day, huh? :-). I think I should subscribe to get this mood lifting pieces of the proud creator of leafy fists.
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