Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Only in Brooklyn: Kids Reading the New Yorker

On Tuesday night at Kol Nidre/Yom Kippur services, I took a break from the prayers (as usual) and went to sit in the lobby with this week's New Yorker. After a few minutes of reading, a young boy, no older than 12, approached me.

"Did you find this New Yorker here?" he asked me. "Because I was reading one with the same cover. I left it around here."

I shook my head and motioned to the address label on the bottom, which had my name. "Nope," I said. "This is mine."

"Oh," he said. "Well, maybe I left mine somewhere else."

I went back to my reading for a few minutes and then looked up. The pre-teen was sitting across the room, reading his very own copy of The New Yorker, same issue as the one in my lap. I barely suppressed my laughter. What sort of  kid would a bring a copy of The New Yorker (or The Economist for that matter) to services. And actually read it. And claim it as his.

And then I wondered if he was also reading the article about drug resistant gonorrhea.

Only in Brooklyn.

2 comments:

Jacob said...

That gonorrhea article was scary! One day it will probably be in u'netaneh tokef. "Who will live, and who will die. Who by fire, and who by water. Who will get scary drug-resistant gonorrhea, and who the regular kind."

Dvora Meyers said...

I know! I'm totally freaked out by it.