Meshuga / Loco
Some bagels come with more drama than others
Hello & welcome to another edition of Situation Normal!
One of the joys of writing slice of life humor is that you get to cover a really expansive beat. One week, I’m writing about serious topics like taxes, or middle age. The next week I’m writing about silly stuff, like what it takes to avoid the Kardashians (not as easy as it sounds), or enduring a human paraquat at the twenty-fifth anniversary screening of The Big Lebowski. Life is a rich beat, and good stories are all around us.
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The man behind the deli counter has a question about my bagel order.
“Do you want a regular amount of cream cheese, or a ridiculous amount?”
“What’s the difference?” I ask.
“A ridiculous amount is when I layer it thick, like from your scalp to the top of your fro.”
I touch my hair. My Jew Fro used to be bigger, lush, vibrant. But that was back in my youth. These days, my Jew Fro is propped up by expensive hair products, wishful thinking, and generational chutzpah. It’s still a solid Jew Fro, but it’s a lousy benchmark for measuring the application of cream cheese.
“Yeah, that’s too much cream cheese,” I say. “Don’t go crazy.”
“But the voices inside my head say I am crazy, brother.”
A wild laughter consumes the man. If he’s trying to look sane, he’s failing miserably. On the other hand, if he’s trying to mess with me, he’s crushing it. I’m open to the second possibility—that the maniacal laughter is the bagel man’s ruse, his way of having a little fun with his customers. But instinctively I take a few steps back from the counter, which means I’m leaning toward the first possibility—that the maniacal laughter is the trademark of a certified maniac who makes his victims bagels before he slaughters them.
Just then, my bagel pops out of the toaster. The man stops laughing. He’s all business again. A real Jekyll and Hyde situation at a Jewish deli.
“OK, so we’re doing like half a schmeer,” he says.
I nod, a little surprised by the change in the man’s demeanor. The way the bagel man shut down the maniac inside him so quickly, so completely, is unsettling. But the bagel man reads the surprised expression on my face from a different angle.
“What? You think a Mexican guy can’t throw around a little Yiddish?” he asks. “I work in a Jewish deli, brother.”
“No, I’m not surprised by the Yiddish,” I say. “It’s cool if the voices in your head are multilingual.”
Once again, laughter consumes the man. Hyde is back. He schmeers the bagel with cream cheese, wraps it in foil, then places it in a brown paper bag.
Then the laughter stops. Jekyll returns. All business. He hands my bagel over the counter.
“I upgraded you to full schmeer, brother.”
“Thanks, but I didn’t ask for that…”
“It’s OK. The voice in my head told me to hook you up. He said it in Yiddish and Spanish, so it’s legit.”
“Cool. Tell the voice… adank and gracias.”
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Want more slice of life humor?
Pick up a copy of my book, Ride/Share: Micro Stories of Soul, Wit and Wisdom from the Backseat. It’s fantastic, but don’t take my word for it.
My friend, Mr. Hyde, raved about Michael’s book. I bought a copy and loved every word!
— Dr. Henry Jekyll, society man, deranged chemist, Hyde’s “friend.”
Stick around and chat!
I’ve got questions, you’ve got answers.
How do you take your bagel? Cream cheese? Flavored cream cheese? Peanut butter? Give us your order!
Do you judge people who order flavored cream cheese? I do.
Was the bagel guy messing with me, or was he a certified maniac? Can both be true?
Are the voices inside your head multilingual? Explain.
If you bought a copy of Ride/Share, have you left a brief review on Amazon? It really helps! Also, thank you for buying books!
The pro move is to bring a friend and split the cream cheese between two bagels. A schmear peer.
wait. how was the bagel?