Kiddish Club. While the haftorah (prophetic portion) is chanted inside, I’m standing outside in the sun with my black-suited back against a white wall. A group of men gathers around the whiskey, fish and crackers, listening to a brief d’var Torah.
My friend Jim* walks by. I grab him. “All I need is one scoop,” I say. “One scoop could transform my social status. One scoop could get me married. One scoop could turn my site into the next Drudge Report. One scoop is all I need! I could be a contender!”
“It’s up to you to transform yourself,” says Jim. “We will never accept you here. Maybe some other shul will. If you made a parnassah, you could get married.
“Your life is such a waste. You threw away everything to follow your penis. I don’t know what you thought you were going to get by converting to Judaism. You’ll never be one of us.
“You could become a motivational speaker, tell people not to do the things you did. Your blog is irrelevant. I look at it at times, it’s all about yourself. These long self-involved posts about your sexual conquests.
“And this one man play? Even if it was successful, it will only further alienate you from the Orthodox community.
“You should move to Israel, enroll in a yeshiva and you might find a 27-year old to marry. Chabad believes in couples of the same age marrying but other Jews think differently. You’d have much more of a chance getting married if you moved to Israel. You might even find a shul that accepts you.”
“You could’ve been somebody, but you threw it all away.”
