
“Something happened today and I need your advice. Would I be able to come over to your house and show you something?”

As I passed, I nodded hello and even ventured a “Chodesh tov.” He looked at me, and suddenly held up his hand. The whole line stopped

I was dressed for Shabbos lunch: suit, silk blouse, silk scarf, heels. Not dressed for a trek up 720 steep, scary stairs in a poorly lit stairwell

I wasn’t standing at the bar stuffing myself with noodles, or drinking the free booze, so would two mangoes be acceptable?

I practiced arranging my features into something that I hoped passed for blasé, hoping nobody would see through my insecurities