Dinner tonight at the good but expensive local kosher restaurant.
A self-described Irish Catholic waitress there flirts with me every time I eat there, probably beyond the faux flirting required to upsell me and build the check average with appetizers, desserts and second glasses of beer and wine.
The waitress is attractive, funny and close to my age. I'm tempted to get to know her better . . .
. . . but the great irony of a shiksa flirting with me at a kosher restaurant dissuades me from doing so, like a cold shower would do.
So I choose Frumkeit over Yetzer Ra once more. I think I might be returning to the Good Boy whom I used to be when I was younger.
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