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Authors: Alan Isler
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couple gravediggers," said the Red Dwarf.
"And a Fortinbras," said Hamburger.
"Maybe a couple other players," said the Red Dwarf.
' 'Why, this it is, when men are rul'd by women,' " I said half to myself.
Lipschitz heard me. "Speak up, Korner. You got something to say, we should all get the benefit." He darted his head at me, his cheeks an angry red.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen," said Goldstein pacifically, "forget I said anything. Is it my business? A friendly question, was all."
"They put you up to it."
"As God is my witness, Nahum."
"Sure, sure."
"I don't even know what we're talking about."
"We're talking Hamlet" said the Red Dwarf. "We're talking Tosca Dawidowicz, we're talking Mineola."
"Take it from me, Nahum," said Blum. "I've been there. Such a good lay you should sell your soul she's not."
"Whatever she is, Blum," said Hamburger, "she's also a lady. For that reason alone you should watch your tongue."
"Lady shmady, in that department I think I know what I'm talking. Look at you, sniffing after Hermione Perlmutter. What do you smell? You think it's incense? Lift both their skirts, you'll find the same thing."
Hamburger turned purple. With his fist clenched, he lunged at Blum, who ducked back, knocking his cup to the floor, where it shattered.
"For God's sake!" said Goldstein, signaling to Joe. "Are we savages?" There was a sudden silence in the restaurant as the
few diners at the other tables looked at us in alarm. "You want to fight, you go outside."
"You shut your mouth, Blum, or I shut it for you!"
"Ignore him," I told Hamburger. "You know what he is. Calm down, you'll do yourself a mischief."
Blum, considerably cowed, bit his lip and lapsed into silence.
"Tosca has nothing to do with it," said Lipschitz. "I stand behind every one of the changes."
"What changes?" said Goldstein.
Briefly, I told him.
"That's ridiculous," said Goldstein.
"Listen who's talking ridiculous," sneered Lipschitz. "You know how to run a restaurant. How to put on a play, thank you very much, /know."
"I've devoted my life to the stage!" Goldstein gestured to the walls covered with theater posters and photographs, many of them signed, of theatrical personalities. "You think these mean nothing? The Adlers themselves were not so high and mighty they wouldn't listen to my advice." His voice rose, trembling with fury. "I've forgotten more about the theater than any of you clowns will ever know."
"Get stuffed, Goldstein," said Lipschitz.
Goldstein sprang to his feet. "Out of my restaurant, all of you!" he screamed. "Get out!"
"Lipschitz will apologize," I said. "He got carried away. Calm down."
"Why should we get out?" said Lipschitz. "This is a public restaurant."
"You want to see how public?" screamed Goldstein, livid, the veins in his temples throbbing. "You want to find out? Stay there. I'm going to phone the police, they'll tell you." He tripped over Joe, who was picking up the shards of Blum's
coffee cup, and fell to the floor. I offered him a hand, which he struck aside. There were tears in his eyes. "Get out!"
There was nothing for it. We left the restaurant and scattered.
LlPSCHITZ MUST HAVE GOTTEN WIND of our little enterprise. Well, that is not in itself surprising, what with the many wagging tongues of the Emma Lazarus. And I do not imagine that Hamburger—let alone the Red Dwarf!—has approached his quota of players with the degree of tact and discretion that so delicate a subject calls for. At any rate, Lipschitz stopped me in the hall this evening, right after Kiddush, the blessing over the wine. "So, friend," he said, "when do the gravediggers return to work?"
The hall, which runs from the lounge to the dining room, is wide and well lighted. On its walls are displayed various pictures on Jewish themes, the work of residents past and present: a haunting photograph of the Vilna ghetto, a weak water-color of the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, a mosaic made up of tiny pieces cut from matzo boxes depicting a
"And a Fortinbras," said Hamburger.
"Maybe a couple other players," said the Red Dwarf.
' 'Why, this it is, when men are rul'd by women,' " I said half to myself.
Lipschitz heard me. "Speak up, Korner. You got something to say, we should all get the benefit." He darted his head at me, his cheeks an angry red.
"Gentlemen, gentlemen," said Goldstein pacifically, "forget I said anything. Is it my business? A friendly question, was all."
"They put you up to it."
"As God is my witness, Nahum."
"Sure, sure."
"I don't even know what we're talking about."
"We're talking Hamlet" said the Red Dwarf. "We're talking Tosca Dawidowicz, we're talking Mineola."
"Take it from me, Nahum," said Blum. "I've been there. Such a good lay you should sell your soul she's not."
"Whatever she is, Blum," said Hamburger, "she's also a lady. For that reason alone you should watch your tongue."
"Lady shmady, in that department I think I know what I'm talking. Look at you, sniffing after Hermione Perlmutter. What do you smell? You think it's incense? Lift both their skirts, you'll find the same thing."
Hamburger turned purple. With his fist clenched, he lunged at Blum, who ducked back, knocking his cup to the floor, where it shattered.
"For God's sake!" said Goldstein, signaling to Joe. "Are we savages?" There was a sudden silence in the restaurant as the
few diners at the other tables looked at us in alarm. "You want to fight, you go outside."
"You shut your mouth, Blum, or I shut it for you!"
"Ignore him," I told Hamburger. "You know what he is. Calm down, you'll do yourself a mischief."
Blum, considerably cowed, bit his lip and lapsed into silence.
"Tosca has nothing to do with it," said Lipschitz. "I stand behind every one of the changes."
"What changes?" said Goldstein.
Briefly, I told him.
"That's ridiculous," said Goldstein.
"Listen who's talking ridiculous," sneered Lipschitz. "You know how to run a restaurant. How to put on a play, thank you very much, /know."
"I've devoted my life to the stage!" Goldstein gestured to the walls covered with theater posters and photographs, many of them signed, of theatrical personalities. "You think these mean nothing? The Adlers themselves were not so high and mighty they wouldn't listen to my advice." His voice rose, trembling with fury. "I've forgotten more about the theater than any of you clowns will ever know."
"Get stuffed, Goldstein," said Lipschitz.
Goldstein sprang to his feet. "Out of my restaurant, all of you!" he screamed. "Get out!"
"Lipschitz will apologize," I said. "He got carried away. Calm down."
"Why should we get out?" said Lipschitz. "This is a public restaurant."
"You want to see how public?" screamed Goldstein, livid, the veins in his temples throbbing. "You want to find out? Stay there. I'm going to phone the police, they'll tell you." He tripped over Joe, who was picking up the shards of Blum's
coffee cup, and fell to the floor. I offered him a hand, which he struck aside. There were tears in his eyes. "Get out!"
There was nothing for it. We left the restaurant and scattered.
LlPSCHITZ MUST HAVE GOTTEN WIND of our little enterprise. Well, that is not in itself surprising, what with the many wagging tongues of the Emma Lazarus. And I do not imagine that Hamburger—let alone the Red Dwarf!—has approached his quota of players with the degree of tact and discretion that so delicate a subject calls for. At any rate, Lipschitz stopped me in the hall this evening, right after Kiddush, the blessing over the wine. "So, friend," he said, "when do the gravediggers return to work?"
The hall, which runs from the lounge to the dining room, is wide and well lighted. On its walls are displayed various pictures on Jewish themes, the work of residents past and present: a haunting photograph of the Vilna ghetto, a weak water-color of the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem, a mosaic made up of tiny pieces cut from matzo boxes depicting a
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