Bagels

“Elisabeth, can I ask you a very important question?” Whenever my coworker Chirag communicates something like that I can’t help but brace myself for what will inevitably turn out to be a ridiculous inquiry on an arbitrary but amusing subject. I gave him a half-hearted go ahead and he continued in his heavy accent, “you are Jewish, right?”

“Yes Chirag, I am Jewish.” Already I regretted entertaining his absurd question of the day. He intensified that regret by launching into a highly detailed story of what he knew about Jews because of his multitude of Jewish neighbors and his experiences with Jewish customers at Kmart.

“Ok, don’t take this the wrong way”

“Just ask the question!” When you let Chirag go off on a tangent he tends to forget why he was bothering you in the first place.

“Okay okay,” he held up his hands in defense and continued, “you are Jewish, so you only eat bagels, right?” I raised an eyebrow, convinced he had finally lost it. Any chance of miscommunication was shattered when he began to describe the shape and texture of a bagel.

“I know what a bagel is!” He laughed and began to nod as though I had proven his theory. In an attempt to retaliate I protested, “Just because I’m Jewish doesn’t mean I only eat bagels! That’s like saying you only eat curry…” but it was a lost cause. “Go away Chirag,” was the only lame comeback I could contrive. For the rest of the summer Chirag never failed to ask what type of bagel I had eaten that day.