I don’t know if it’s my dark, curly hair or the many Michael Chabon books I’ve read, but despite my feelings about the U.S.’s totally wack Israeli foreign policy, I sometimes feel a weird kinship to the Jews.
Which is why, last night, when I heard a Hispanic dude on the corner of 42nd and Lexington saying, “She kept trying to jew me into coming to that party!”, I wanted to turn and say, “Listen, you spic, my people have been enduring stereotyping and ridicule from a-holes like you for thousands of years now, and it ends right here, right now.”
But then I remembered that I’m a regular, old white girl from Ohio. Minorities get to have all the fun.
