Talking To NY Girls

20 Jul

Go ahead. Make eye contact again. I dare you.

Guest Post by RealFunnyJew

I never thought the time would come where I would be fully living out my all-time yeshiva fantasy. The classic one that Frum Satire is always talks about, with the willing girls and locked apartment doors. Where worrying about a near approaching Rabbi was not a problem and where the booze ran freely, yet weed was still taboo.Now I didn’t hook up- please, God isn’t that kind- but I did get to hang out with girls. Real. Live. Girls. With boobs.

Yes. Now I know you think I’m joking, but for me a simple Shabbos dinner with some post Bais Yaakov/current Stern girls is no small situation. This is my time to shine, to put on the moves, and show them what I got in high hopes of ending the night of with a sexual encounter, which as far as I’m concerned could be a simple handshake. Oh God, just one…tiny ounce…of flesh contact. Please? Of course, it did not happen, I mean unless you count Shoshi passing the chicken where I “accidently” skimmed her finger nails as my fingers scraped along the white porcelain for a wee bit longer than I should have. Ohhh yeah, gimme some of that fingernails action, babe.

I wasn’t always this desperate. There was a time in my life when I left my BFF’s Shlomit and Sheva and Yafit to go to Camp Mogen Avraham in the Catskills, a camp where I knew absolutely no one and simply went because I thought that the idea of a camp with other Jewish boys my age (and at the time, I assumed girls) would be quite a bit of fun without the supervision of parents, but that is a separate story. At this camp I distinctly recall debating the hetero-phobic kids in my bunk that being friends with a girl was no big deal. It’s normal, why would anybody care? I swear to you, I believed every word that I was saying, and would get into screaming fights with the other folks who would disagree. I had one ally, a black kid called Preston who had a girlfriend – ride on man, ride on. Much respect.

Regardless, I went on with this theory in my head that talking to girls was socially acceptable and the people at camp were just simple minded – which they were, no doubt – until I was fourteen years old shadowing at the Wisconsin Institute of Torah Study. There I learned that the anti vagina view was mainstream:

“Wait – why can’t we have a cell phone?” I asked Rabbi Cheplowitz, possibly the scariest man alive, the only man to ever make me a pee a little while engaging in a staring contest.

“You will talk to girls, of course.”

“And that’s not allowed?”


I wasn’t accepted. But the journey for the right yeshiva went on, and my worst fears were confirmed. Girls are the devil. Satan is a stupid Christian value- girls are where it’s at.

Needless to say, after three years in yeshiva and going into my fourth, with minimal contact with the females, I found myself leaving the table of girls who I’m never going to get any action with to make my way to the bathroom to down some of my dwindling supply of morphine pills from my last surgery just to make it through the meal.


One Response to “Talking To NY Girls”

  1. frum single female July 20, 2011 at 1:51 pm #

    oy, such tzuris!

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