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“Something happened today and I need your advice. Would I be able to come over to your house and show you something?”
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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
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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
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I wasn’t standing at the bar stuffing myself with noodles, or drinking the free booze, so would two mangoes be acceptable?
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I practiced arranging my features into something that I hoped passed for blasé, hoping nobody would see through my insecurities