Yet Another Reason for Aliyah
*Warning* This retelling of the story won't accurately portray the humor contained within the truthful walls of the actual events. That being said, I'll still give it my best shot.
With Israeli relatives in town, I tried to find a copy of an Israeli newspaper for them to read this weekend. I went over to the only spot I could think of that may carry them, the local butchershop owned by an Israeli. I arrive there to find the owner sitting outside the store on a milk crate with a toothpick in his mouth. I told him what I was looking for, and he escorted me inside and began to rummage through the mess near the cash register, searching for anything in Hebrew print (the markup on publications from overseas is a topic in and of its own. But I digress...).
Unfortunately, he couldn't find me a newspaper other than the New York Times. Then he offers me a copy of a magazine instead. The magazine--which I would later figure out is the Israeli version of Vogue Magazine--has a picture of three scantily clad young girls leaning against each other. I take one look at it, look back up at him, and say "I think I'll pass." Somehow, during that brief moment, he figured out that I believed he was trying to sell me pornography (marked up to $6.50 because it came all the way from Israel).
"It's not dirty pictures of girls," he assures me, toothpick firmly in place atop his lower lip.
This was an encounter I was never ready to have. It sprang up on me out of the white and blue. I guess it's like the old adage goes, "when life brings you Israeli porn, run like hell out of the store."