Female bar patrons had been side-eying their booth the entire time. Sipping from the stirrers of their drinks like their luscious lips were auditioning for a part. Hair flipping. And laughing just a bit too loud. Now that Avi had been abandoned by Nora and Talia, two swooped in.
“Hi, Avi…can I have your autograph?”
“Can I have your babies?”
Toss, toss, giggle, giggle. Suck, suck.
“Will you take a selfie with us?”
A shaking hand thrust a damp cocktail napkin past Jay. Another plunked their phone into Jonah’s hand. Time to make another damn sandwich.
“Slide in, ladies. I’ve got the arms for this.” Jonah moved in closer to Avi on one side. Jay did the same on the other, pulling the pen from behind his ear to summon the autograph seeker closer.
Selfie girl clambered onto the leather banquette, practically climbing into Jonah’s lap in her attempt to be closer to Avi. He could smell the Hanukkah Hammer on her breath as she called out instructions. “Now take a vertical so I can add it to my stories!”
“You’d better tag me!” the friend warned, and Jay looked like he regretted giving his pen up only for it to be used as a weapon.
“Say latkes!” Avi grinned, unfazed.
“LATKES!”
After the girls had photographic proof and an autograph to back it up, they had the sense enough to vacate the booth, leaving a sweet cloud of perfume and cherry whisky lingering in the air around it.
“Now that you’re living in the city full time, Asher’s going to need to hire more bouncers,” Jay murmured. He slid from the booth as well. “See you fools on board. Remember – the Baller waits for no one.” He pointed one last finger at each of them before heading out.
Avi drained the dregs of his drink.
“You don’t always have to do that, Jo.”
“Do what?”
“Act like my human shield.” He shook the ice in his glass. “Here. At the airport. What do you think happens when you’re not around?”
“Well, if they’re asking you to be their sperm donor in public…I think a lot could happen.”
Avi laughed around a mouthful of cubes, shaking his head. Jonah wondered if he could get away with letting his own curls weigh themselves down into the thick waves Avi had, and concluded no. His hair tended to grow up, and out, rather than down. He’d have a Jewfro of epic proportions.
“Stop worrying about me. And ignore Jay – you killed it last year, dude. And challenging us all to a fundraising competition was your brilliant idea. You or I might’ve won if Eli hadn’t rigged the system.”
That was true. Jonah had run the Matzo Baller’s P&L and knew the numbers – it had been the most successful Baller yet, even before Eli’s eleventh hour, long distance donation of a cool million on Jay’s behalf.
Still. Jonah felt something as he made his descent at Union Square to grab the 6 train home. Not depression…more like uselessness. What good was arm day at the gym if he couldn’t be muscle for Avi once in a while and flex to keep fans in their place? Why even write jokes for tomorrow night if Jay considered him potentially hazardous to the event’s bottom line? Nora had Beck and he could get his own tool belt to build her baby furniture from now on. Talia and Jay were pretty much chuppah-bound with their respective bashert, if their fulfilling careers ever slowed down to let them. Meanwhile, his own job, as Avery put it, really was the “boringest” and pretty soon, machines and AI would probably replace him anyway. Faster and funnier. He felt slow and…not very witty at all.
Back at his apartment, he spied the suit he’d brought home from the cleaners last week, still hanging from the back of the closet door in its clear bag. Bought as a lark a few years back, the crushed black velvet with neon Hanukkah designs printed chaotically all over it had been his go-to look for the Matzo Baller. Fun, festive, a little loud, and a lot his style. Now it looked cheap and gaudy, like he was trying too hard.
A black tux also hung, like a sleek shark in a sea of blue and grey business suits. Years back, Eli had outfitted the entire crew for a trip to Monaco. Gowns for the girls, penguin suits for the guys. It was the first trip where Eli said, “hey, wanna go somewhere?” and their Year Course backpacks crammed with all-weather clothes weren’t going to cut it. Probably the first time they’d all realized that if they were going to roll with Eli in his world, it was by his rules and usually on his dime.
“Fit and fabric,” the tailor had emphasized, as she draped Jay in Tom Ford, Avi in Saint Laurent, and Jonah in Hugo Boss. Its athletic cut was a world away from memories of rented prom tuxes that felt like they would Hulk out and burst at the seams.
And it still fit perfectly now.
He stashed the velvet suit in the back of the closet. Maybe it would make an appearance next Hanukkah. But for this Baller…this Hanukkah felt a little different. And he felt like he was ready to be a different Jonah.
Ready to be taken more seriously.
He spent the remaining hours of the evening polishing his shoes. Finding his best cufflinks. Shaving, trimming his beard. Digging out the expensive curl product he’d been talked into buying at his last haircut and had all but forgotten about. And rehearsing what he would say if he ran into Kara Koff again.
Thanks for being kind, when you didn’t have to be.
