Yearbook

by Seth Rogen

A friendly Israeli man in his fifties answered the door: “Shalom! Baruch Falafel Latke!” (This is not what he said, but they are Hebrew words I know, so they’ll do.) Mom: Uh…we don’t speak Hebrew. Israeli Man: Shalom! He gestured for us to follow him and led us through his house to a back room with two twin beds. Mom: So, we stay here? In your house? Israeli Man: Knish! Yes! Mom: Uh…okay. Perfect. Thanks. The guy eyed us for a second. Israeli Man: No! Not perfect! I make perfect! Rosh Hashana! He then started awkwardly trying to push the two heavy metal bed frames closer together. Israeli Man: I fix! I make nice! We protested. Me: No! It’s not necessary! Mom: Please! No! They’re fine where they are! Israeli Man: Is fine. Is fine! I make one big bed! For nice couple! It was then it occurred to both me and my mother that this man thought we were in a sexual relationship with one another. Me: Is NOT fine!! Mom: No! Not fine! Israeli Man: Exactly, like this, is not fine. The Israeli made a sexually suggestive face to me. Israeli Man: I fix! Make it fine! Gal Gadot. Me: No! Do NOT fix! We are not…uh…needing the fixing of anything! Israeli Man: Is fine! Matzoh! I do not judge! Is fine! He wouldn’t take no for an answer. He kept pushing the two heavy beds closer and closer until they made one big bed in the middle of the room. Unfortunately, it would be easier just to move the beds back ourselves than it would be to convince this man we weren’t just a shy couple. We laughed about...