It’s Friday evening and I’m walking through the most Hasidic part of Williamsburg when I realize that means Amazing Savings (my fav dollar store) will be closed. On the way to my second choice, I see a lost boy with curls and a plastic bag over his hat walk by, and I dismissedly wonder why he’s out.
I arrive at 99 Cent Wonder with the singular purpose of purchasing a punch bowl and rushing home. Naturally though, I am distracted by all the fun cheap items. At some point, I catch sight of another Hasid hot on my trail and sniffling as I’m perusing frames (for a certain vintage alligator photo that has nothing to do with this story). I jokingly remark to myself that he’s here looking to pick up a hooker.
He continues to follow me and awkwardly picks up a frame that he pretends to inspect. I note that at least today I cannot be mistaken as such and kind of pat myself on the back for it. On the contrary, Sniffles finally decides to make his move. He approaches holding his frame and mumbles something incomprehensible in Hebrew-accustomed broken English. I raise an eyebrow as he ponders what to say next. He settles on what he deems to be an appropriate question.
“These are frame?”
He proceeds to fondle his crotch as I feign confusion. He then asks me, in Spanish, if I understand. I say, ”What?” several times in succession and laugh. He asks what language I
speak, realizes that it is indeed English, then asks why I’m laughing, and again if they are frames.
“What else would they be?”
“Just want to make sure. So they frames? Thank you.”
He smiles all too coolly and expectantly as I laugh and turn around. Then he returns the frame to the appropriate bin, rubs his little red nose, and we part.
