I’m actually, with veiled modesty, talking about me. Yesterday I found a letter in my mailbox addressed to the Esther Meyowitz Passover Fund in Bayside Queens. How it got to me is a mystery, and I must remember to ask my mailman if he fell on his head.
Though a crime, I opened it finding a check for 25 dollars from a Mr. and Mrs. Floyd Greenblatt. How nice, I thought, they were sending a tithe in memory of Esther I just assumed was no longer with us.
I did what any nice, nutty girl would have done – went upstairs, wrapped the check in Kleenex to divert any thieves, and resent it to the fund adding an anonymous ten dollars that happened to be my laundry money.
By this time, I felt I kind of knew Esther.
I then took a mini survey to ask what others would have done if they found the Greenblatt’s check in their mailbox.
I got 5, are you crazies.
3, you opened it?
2, would have left it for the mailman (who might have sent it to Peru) and…
1, get a fucking life Susannah.
But before I could feel stupid I heard Esther say, thank you Susannah.
Written for Lori Waterhouse, my favorite nice, Jewish girl.