African Anteater Ritual

Tonight, I went to an engagement party in South Tel Aviv at a kosher bar/club called Bulldog. The engagement party was for a woman named Michal, who I met at Oren's meal a few weeks ago. She was really sweet at the meal so I wanted the opportunity to wish her a Mazal Tov. Anyway, a couple of people called to tell me to come as they thought it would also be a good opportunity for me to meet people. Sadly, with the loud 80's music interspersed by some Israeli pop and hip-hop blasting in the background (Fame followed by Bootylicious is just a sample) you couldn't talk let alone hear anything. As most of my blog readers know, I don't dance in religious mixed company. Something that stayed with me from my Yeshiva education, so I make no apologies. Back in NYC, if I wanted to go dancing, I did one of two things. Either, I grabbed my friend Jules and we went to a place downtown where I knew no religious people would ever be, or I would head to the Roxy on a Saturday night and get jiggy with the gay men of Gotham. Looks like, if I ever want to get my "freak on" here in Tel Aviv, I'm going to have to find a gay club to go dancing. Fortunately for me, I'm not much of a dancer so I don't really think this will be an issue.

Anyway, I've been reading this John Gardner book and he keeps talking about dinner parties as great forums for writers. He also talks about the writer's nature, and how we tend to be the ones sitting in the corner taking in the scene.

Tonight, that's pretty much what I did. I sat at one of the tables and just took it all in. I knew a handful of people, so they would occasionally stop by to say hello, but most of the time I was by myself at the table just watching.

I am including the African anteater ritual clip from the movie Can't Buy Me Love (Patrick Dempsey at his finest, before Grey's Anatomy) simply because one of the girls at the club started to mimic the movement and was impressed that I knew exactly what she was doing. I am buy no means insinuating that I think frum people - or the people at tonight's party - dance like this.

Nevertheless, enjoy the clip as it's really fun to watch.

For those who want to know how my meal went last night, please check your inbox. I am sending out an e-mail with the details shortly.

Now, I have to go and rewash my hair because it stinks like tobacco. Man, I wish Bloomberg was mayor of Tel Aviv.