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  • Writer's pictureLeah Jones

Charlottes conversion (AKA Im behind on my Sex in the City)

Somehow I missed the season where Charlotte meets Harry and decides to convert. I picked up Sex in the City the episode after the break up–she’s at the synagogue social, he’s at the social. “Of all the shuls in the city, you gotta come to mine.” So I missed the two episodes that I saw tonight–Charlotte deciding to become a jew kept me on the treadmill for 45 minutes.

There is a moment where she says something about Liz Taylor converting to Judaism and then she turns around and there is a shelf of all sorts of Kosher foods and a table of Jewish cookbooks. HA! Story of my conversion. All the suddenly jewish things you notice. Her telling her friends she’s decided to become a Jew, trying to meet with the rabbi. It was hysterical to me–all so familiar, even if I didn’t have a Harry when I decided.

In other news, I’m going to see Chava Alberstein tomorrow night at Symphony Hall…. Alone. Ronnie can’t get out of work in time, but he says she has a great voice. Other friends are booked, although there is a possibility of my upstairs neighbor joining me. (Read that Ted? Show is at 8!)

In other OTHER news, the new falafel/hot dog/ice cream parlor in my neighborhood has a customer for life with me. After work I went there to get falafel and french fries (healthy dinner, I know.) When the guy in the kitchen gave me the bag, he said, “And some ketchup for your fries.” So I assumed I had the fries, but when I got outside and opened the bag, I didn’t see them. Hmmm, must be at the bottom of the bag. He offered me ketchup, he must have included the fries.

I start walking home and get down a block, turn the corner and am halfway down my block. I hear footsteps, “Miss! Miss!” A hand on my shoulder, I get ready to punch somebody’s lights out. “Your french fries. I’m sorry, I forgot. Your fries.”

The cook ran a block and a half to bring me my french fries. Fries that were less than $1.50 and he ran through the neighborhood to get them to me.

Customer for Life, right here. I will always send people there and regale friends with the story of the day the cook chased me down to give me my french fries.

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