A Stalker Named Saul

I was sitting here this morning listening to a story on This American Life about a Hasidic Jew in Brooklyn who temporarily transformed himself into an underground rock star and I started thinking about an experience that happened about 7 years ago when I was living in Sunset Park in Brooklyn. At the time my roommate Juliet and I used to frequent a local Irish bar that was a few blocks from our apartment. One night during the world series we dropped in for a drink and who should be sitting at the bar and watching the game but a gang of young Hasidic Jews. Juliet and I had been scheming for months about how we might meet and talk to some of these fellows. We couldn't help it- there we were in Brooklyn, surrounded by these people yet we knew next to nothing about their mysterious lives. This is because Hasids are not generally known for their willingness to hang with people outside their enclave. In fact, up until then, the only time I'd ever even spoken to one was when buying film at B&H (a store run by and entirely staffed by Hasidic Jews- a very surreal experience by the way should you ever happen to be in Manhattan. All the film and camera equipment are transferred around the store via baskets which run on overhead tracks and everybody's running around with those side curl things and the black suits and the stern expressions and so on). Anyway, back to my story. So this one night there we were and there they were at the bar but despite the fact that we were all sitting there right next to each other drinking beer and smoking cigarettes, and despite the fact that both Juliet and I proceeded to practice every man-attracting trick in the book (the soulful stares, the the peels of charming laughter, the constant hair flipping and fiddling), they completely ignored us. What was a girl to do? Well, we did what any sneaky person with a modicum of common sense would do. We asked them for a light for our cigarettes 27 times in a row.

To be honest though, I don't think we really thought that it would work. That's why we were so shocked when Juliet felt a tap on her shoulder, turned around and lo and behold, there was Saul standing there, book of matches in hand. He handed us the matches and we started to chat. We wasted no time and jumped right to the important matters: How do you meet girls to marry if you're not allowed to hang out with them before? "You parents invite one over, you maybe watch some TV for a couple hours and BOOM, that's it. You get married."  Of even more interest perhaps- How do you get the ringlets so perfectly curled? Do you use gel? A curling iron? "Curling irons, not so much. Gel, yes we use sometimes. You wrap with your finger and BOOM. It's done. Curly." He liked the word boom. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Saul's horrified buddies huddled together on the other side of the bar, murmuring to each other and occasionally sneaking a scandalized glance in our direction. When Saul gingerly took a sip of Juliet's gin and tonic in response to our query about whether it was really true that he wasn't allowed to drink from non kosher glasses "Sure it's true but sometimes I break the rules," the other guys broke into a frenzy of worried chatter. I could almost hear them saying "Oh great, first that crazy Saul goes over and talks to those floozies but now he's using tainted dish ware? This is too much!"  Saul was obviously the Robert Downey Jr of this group cause he was going nowhere good in a hurry.

When it came time for Saul to leave he mentioned to Juliet that since he dealt in electronics, he might be able to get us a good deal on a TV if we'd just jot down our phone number for him. Actually, what I think he said was that all we needed to do was "Just say the word and I get you nice TV. Boom!" We should have been warned of what was to come when he winked and drew a large heart around the number that Juliet wrote down but we were just too excited. "We have Hasidic Jewish friends isn't that cool!

As we drunkenly stumbled home, all we could talk about was the really cool party we were going to have soon with all our cool new Hasidic friends. We'd invite our regular friends and then Saul and all his friends. It would be so cool! WE would be so cool! Wouldn't it just be so so cool?!! Wait a minute! Thanksgiving was coming up, what about then? We imagined all our new be-ringleted pals lounging around and eating a turkey dinner with our impressed friends. How exotic it would be! How multicultural of us! We'd all share a turkey and maybe they'd even let us try on their hats. They could even bring their own dishes to eat from if they wanted to. We'd understand. Was turkey kosher? We didn't know but we'd find out, no problem.

The first phone message came the next day. "Hello? This is Saul? I am looking for Juliet? Call me please?" Despite the fact that the phone call was made at 6am, the message was relatively unalarming. A sober and very hungover Juliet still hadn't decided whether or not to call him back when the next call came. And then the next and the next. By the end of the week Saul had become considerably bolder in his phone messages. "Hey Baby, It's me Saul! Listen, page me as soon as you get this alright?" Baby? Page me?  "Juliet where are you? I've been calling all week and I'm worried. Do you still want your television?" We had created a monster and there didn't seem to be any way to stop this man. We quickly realized that we really should have thought things through much more carefully when we gave him our number and told him to call. After all, this was a guy who came from a culture where just watching TV with someone for two hours was enough to get married on. Clearly, giving him your phone number was tantamount so something much more serious than we'd thought.

I wish I could end this story in a neat little package with all the ends tied up. I can't really think of a way to do that though... Saul's phone calls slowly petered out until we were receiving only one or two per week. Eventually they ended all together. In the meantime, Juliet and I got caller ID and proceeded to have other neighborhood adventures such as the time I went to see Miss Saigon with our psychotic downstairs neighbor Junior. His girlfriend had dumped him when he went to pick her up and for some reason he chose to knock on our door to see if one of us would go. A big mystery since the only communication we'd had with him until then had been a huge screaming fight about his uncaged boa contrictor and nonstop barking dogs. We went to a comedy club afterwards and Junior cried on my shoulder for two hours straight. But I digress...

Was there a lesson to be learned from our experience with Saul? Not really. Except perhaps, "Don't give your number to a rebellious and persistent Hasidic man unless you actually want him to call 25 times a day." There are certain lessons in life however, that must be learned through trial and error.

Comments

[Ashley]

Haha I love it. Due to a few 'close'/bad calls (no pun intended) we generally give out another number at bars now. Unfortunate for the person who has that number, unless they get a lot of dates!!

You must have so many interesting stories from living in New York!!

[Annejelynn]

You spent so much time in New York - I can only imagine the gazillions of stories you may have to tell... I loved this one! I'm looking forward to hopefully reading more about your time in NY.

[gleek]

oh my lord... it seems like the only seats available on the F train in the morning are the middle seats with some large hasidic man taking up most of it. i plunk myself down anyway but i've never been more curious to get to know him. the little torah and the curls are enough for a fun filled ride! :) great story!

[hly]

oh my goodness! i wonder if most young women living in brooklyn have completely hilarious hassid run-ins. your story made me laugh and reminded me of my own more awkward encounter with benjamin, a young man wearing a spectacular hat who tried to get me to get in his minivan. i almost did, because who expects someone (in a truly incredible furry and cylindrical hat) asking directions to the bqe in bayridge to be trying to pick you up? thankfully (i think) my early elementary education in not getting into cars with strangers kept me from further adventures.

[kaitlyn]

What an awesome story! And such practical tips for us ladies in brooklyn ;)

[sushi]

i liked it, i liked it alot
in a cleaning frenzy i stumbled upon your first pieces of literary hilarity than you sprung on me many moons ago in shimokitazawa - genius, captivating, tummy tickling.