Hola Amigos, when we last met the Russian illegal high stakes mah jongg game was taken care of. As soon as Avi left for his mission, The Jewish Godmother bellowed, “Francine, get my accountant!” Francine got up from her seat and walked over to a table nearby where a man was eating an onion bagel. His name was Al Goldstein. She said to him, “Al! Godmother needs you!” At that moment, Al immediately dropped his bagel, grabbed his attache case and stumbled over to the back of the deli. As he sat down, the Godmother said, “Alan, we will be shaking down some Russians which will result in a surplus of funds. I will need your creative accounting skills.” While the Godmother was speaking, Al seemed to be preoccupied with his cell phone. The Godmother noticed, and yelled, “Alan, what are you doing with that fakakta device?” He replied, “I’m sorry Godmother, I was texting my new girlfriend.” Francine, who was a ‘Yachna Yentila’ asked, “Is it anyone I know?” The Godmother piped in, “Is it the Rabbi’s oldest daughter Fruma, she’s such a catch, I’ve been telling you about her for years, she makes a brisket like no one else!” At this Al replied, “No, no, you wouldn’t know her, I met her on a dating site.” Francine said, “Oh, J-date?” Al fumbled, “Uh, no, not J-date, it’s one of those other ones.” The Godmother wrinkled her brow, “What other ones are there for a nice Jewish boy?” Al started sweating profusely and answered, ” Well this one is not necessarily for Jewish boys.” Al’s phone rang and Godmother grabbed the phone from his hands and looked at it. “Call from Mary Margaret?” Al quickly took the phone back as she continued, “Who names their daughter Mary Margaret? Unless she’s not Jewish.” The Godmother stood up and shook her finger at Al and said, “Does your mother know about this?” Sheepishly he replied, “No, I haven’t spoken to my mother in over a week!” At that moment the entire deli fell silent. It was almost as though time had stood still. For everyone knew that there is a special place in Gehennom for Jewish boys who don’t call their mothers! Francine ran away in fear of what would happen next. The workers, overhearing the conversation, closed the blinds, locked the front door and patrons crawled under the tables. The room darkened and I swear I heard lightening strike as the Godmother beat Al with her pocketbook. “Whaddayamean? In over a week? She could have fallen and broken her hip two feet away from the phone. Or she could be lying in a gutter outside of D’agostino’s with a loaf of marble rye in her hand! Or God forbid, she could be stuck in a broken elevator with only a tuna fish sandwich in her pocketbook to keep her alive! What’s the matta with you? If you hadn’t been so preoccupied with your ‘Mary Magdalene’ your mother would be alive today! And, if by some miracle she is still alive you’re going to kill her anyway when she finds out you’ve been seeing a shiksa!!!! How could you do this, and during the Holiday season?” Al started to plead for mercy, “Please Godmother I’ll take any punishment, but please not The Guilt!” Godmother stopped beating Al and answered, “The Guilt? What about the GELT?” And with that the Godmother reached behind the screen from Chinatown and grabbed a 10 pound bag of chocolate Chanukah coins. She proceeded to pummel Al in the gut with it and He doubled over in pain. She then handed him a business card and said, “Here! I know a good gastroenterologist for your stomach pain… this is her card, she’s Jewish and she’s single! Now, Call your mother!” And as far as I know, Al never saw Mary Margaret again and he lived happily ever after with his gastroenterologist!
Until next time this is this is Jose Flores de las Gutierrez Perez de Fernandez de Leon de Jesus.
#brooklyn #jewishproblems #callyourmother #shiksa #marblerye #gastroenterologist #jewishdeli
Oy! Tears of laughter Bubbila. Coming from an interfaith family… I can laugh at “the Godmother and not feel the least bit guilty!”
Chocolate… in moderation! Even or especially when ingested! 😉
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So glad you like it! I come from interfaith as well. Jews and Italians, Oy!
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