I get a van Sunday afternoon to help a friend pick up a refrigerator and move it into his new apartment.
As I start the van, it barely turns over.
Oy, the shame!
We drive to Western and Venice to pick up a dolly.
The van barely turns over and but sputters to life and we putter to Jefferson and Crenshaw.
We’ve got two shiksas with us to smooth the ride. You never know when you might need some muscle, especially when venturing into South-Central.
As we walk in to pick up the frig, a pitbull next door comes to life.
Oy, the shame! This is a set-up to get a whitey! I know it. And to think we’re going to perish next door to the Church of Christ in God. What a way to go, salvation just feet away and yet so far!
There’s a key under the rug. We go in and dust off the frig and take green condoms off the top.
"Jane?"* I say to the 21 year old.
I get dirty looks.
Goyim are no fun!
We forego the open Miller beer and shlep the frig out to the van.
The van barely turns over but finally sputters to life.
We drive to Pico-Robertson and shlep the frig up about 25 stairs. I’m on the bottom, so if the guy pulling it up decides he’s taken offense to one of my recent blog posts, I’m a dead man.
Khunrum emails: “Further proof that no matter how many telifins Luke wraps around himself he will always be a Goy. No smart Jew would be on the bottom pushing a refrige up 25 stairs. hahaaaaaaa! sucker!”
We get to the top and smash some glass shoving the frig in the door.
Ain’t no thing!
I say goodbye to everyone and try to start the van.
It won’t turn over.
I get a jump.
Van still won’t turn over.
I call for a tow. It takes an hour to arrive and costs me $100 to shlep me less than a mile to my service station.
While it is rolling me up, I see the traffic stacking up on Shenandoah. There’s Rabbi Kalinsky from the Orthodox Union waiting patiently. Oy, the shame! He’s rushing to do a mitzvah and my bumbling fumbling has bumbed his ride!
Oy, the shame!
