Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Tea for two, and two for tea . . . alone!

I know there are plenty of opportunities for a Jewish person to have a culture clash with secular or non-Jewish people. Fodder could come from a variety of lingo (oy vey!), food (gefilte fish), cultural (matchmakers!), geographical (you're from ___ you must know Sara Cohen!), physical (the shnoz), emotional (if you called more often you'd understand).

This week I had one I'd never experienced before. The Baffled Barista. See, the poor guy was just making me some tea (Grande non-fat please!) when there was a hub-bub from the break room. We'd been joking about something funny that had happened in line while I was ordering, so in an atmosphere of joviality he shared that a coworker was celebrating the news that she was expecting.

<<>>

What was he expecting me to say? I have no idea :) Something between indifference to polite smiling. Instead he got the Jewish mother treatment. Poor barista didn't know what hit him.

"Wow! Congratulations!" I beamed. I had known enough not to say mazal tov, my usual reaction to hearing news like this.

He looked shocked. "It's not mine, it's a coworkers."

"We all celebrate news like that. It's part of the Starbucks family celebration, right?" I fumbled.

He gave me his most strategic "you're a crazy lady but I'm in food service so I'm used to dealing with loonies" smile. Oy vey indeed.

See, every celebration in the Jewish people is something we share. If my mom's hair stylist's third cousin's half sister's dog had puppies, I'd say "Mazal tov!" and my excitement would only increase as the proximity of the celebration approached me personally. So my best friend's future engagement would require an ear shattering squeal, lots of jumping, and at least 3 more laugh lines to every person who informed me of the news, from the future-bride herself to any one of the 252 facebook friends we have in common.

We share simchas (celebrations) because we all have a piece of it. We've prayed for the blessing for ourselves and those we know, and at the end of the prayer is usually "and all of the people of Israel." So any time someone has something good, we've prayed for it at one time or another. We've put in the effort, the shared excitement is the reward. At a wedding, bris, engagement, we wish Mazal tov to everyone attending, not just the immediate participants. It's the sense of community we all feel for each other.

I feel bad for putting the poor guy on the spot when he was just trying to slog through his caffeinated shift. Maybe it was mostly because he was male, and a female would have reacted differently safe in the knowledge that I couldn't be mistaking paternity.

I also feel a little bad that there is such detachment from one another that the congratulations can't spill over. In hindsight I remembered the appropriate response "She must be so happy." The singular over the plural.


I know there are plenty of opportunities for a Jewish person to have a culture clash with secular or non-Jewish people. Fodder could come from a variety of lingo (oy vey!), food (gefilte fish), cultural (matchmakers!), geographical (you're from ___ you must know Sara Cohen!), physical (the shnoz), emotional (if you called more often you'd understand).


This week I had one I'd never experienced before. The Baffled Barista. See, the poor guy was just making me some tea (Grande non-fat please!) when there was a hub-bub from the break room. We'd been joking about something funny that had happened in line while I was ordering, so in an atmosphere of joviality he shared that a coworker was celebrating the news that she was expecting.

<<>>

What was he expecting me to say? I have no idea :) Something between indifference to polite smiling. Instead he got the Jewish mother treatment. Poor barista didn't know what hit him.

"Wow! Congratulations!" I beamed. I had known enough not to say mazal tov, my usual reaction to hearing news like this.

He looked shocked. "It's not mine, it's a coworkers."

"We all celebrate news like that. It's part of the Starbucks family celebration, right?" I fumbled.

He gave me his most strategic "you're a crazy lady but I'm in food service so I'm used to dealing with loonies" smile. Oy vey indeed.

See, every celebration in the Jewish people is something we share. If my mom's hair stylist's third cousin's half sister's dog had puppies, I'd say "Mazal tov!" and my excitement would only increase as the proximity of the celebration approached me personally. So my best friend's future engagement would require an ear shattering squeal, lots of jumping, and at least 3 more laugh lines to every person who informed me of the news, from the future-bride herself to any one of the 252 facebook friends we have in common.

We share simchas (celebrations) because we all have a piece of it. We've prayed for the blessing for ourselves and those we know, and at the end of the prayer is usually "and all of the people of Israel." So any time someone has something good, we've prayed for it at one time or another. We've put in the effort, the shared excitement is the reward. At a wedding, bris, engagement, we wish Mazal tov to everyone attending, not just the immediate participants. It's the sense of community we all feel for each other.

I feel bad for putting the poor guy on the spot when he was just trying to slog through his caffeinated shift. Maybe it was mostly because he was male, and a female would have reacted differently safe in the knowledge that I couldn't be mistaking paternity.

I also feel a little bad that there is such detachment from one another that the congratulations can't spill over. In hindsight I remembered the appropriate response "She must be so happy." The singular over the plural.


People who read this post also read :



No comments:

Post a Comment