Month: January 2023

Secret Tel Aviv builds Geniza for its Old Weird-Ass Posts

By Aaron Pomerantz

Last Updated 1/30/2023 at 7:30 PM

Tel Aviv, Trumpeldor Cemetery: Guess What? “Secret Tel Aviv” just built a Geniza! That’s right, the venerable Tel Aviv online institution has created a dignified burial/storage spot for all the fantastically bizarre posts that once peppered the site back in the era of 2014-2020 when it was specifically populated by goofy Anglo Olim with LOTS of issues and was way more bizarre and fun than it is today. You see, Secret Tel Aviv was new Olim’s first encounter with Israel. It was at this site that we learned about the woman who tried to pimp out her cat (really), Secret Tel Aviv’s affiliate with a sperm bank (really), also the German ballet instructor and his Israeli husband who used Secret Tel Aviv to try to get their legally blind, prudish, anti-social dog laid (really). So we are talking about a lot of classic content. The Daily Freier caught up with Secret Tel Aviv founder Jonny Stark as he supervised the construction of the Geniza in Tel Aviv’s Trumpeldor Cemetery.

Jonny led us to the Geniza, which is a shack near the northwest corner of Trumpeldor Cemetery (Just go in the front, take your first left, pass Arik Einstein, and take a right when you see Bernard Lewis. Pass Max Nordau and walk another 50 meters.) Johnny was sitting with several members of the Tel Aviv Rabbanut as an intern carefully folded a 2015 post from a guy who was looking for a Rave party that offered babysitting. “There is so much history that will simply disappear if we don’t do something.” explained Mr. Stark as he glanced at several random complaints about the French from the Summer of 2016. As Jonny spoke, the Daily Freier noticed a pile of papers crumpled up in a dusty corner. “What’s that?” we inquired. Mister Stark stared thoughtfully for a moment and replied. “Those are posts  from every Oleh in 2015 who asked about the best place for Israeli Breakfast and/or when the buses start running after Shabbat.

The Daily Freier then asked one of the Rabbis (named Yossi) about the Rabbanut’s role in this important archival endeavor. Rabbi Yossi explained. “Some people think that Tel Aviv is just a hive of hedonistic idiots. Last month I met a guy who wouldn’t eat at Bodega because he didn’t like the Tel Aviv Rabbanut Hechsher (Editor’s Note: This Really Really Happened. Also, Bodega is Awesome.). Did he picture us sitting around waxing our surfboards, cutting the sleeves off our t-shirts, charging our electric bikes, and lying to Taglit girls about our Army service? …. So Yeah, setting up this Geniza just seemed like a good way to put some of the weird stuff behind us and move on.”

As the Daily Freier got up to leave, we told Jonny that it’s not too late to turn back time and return Secret Tel Aviv to its former glory of women looking for the owner of the men’s boxer shorts in their laundry basket at the laundromat, rather than silly pursuits like helping people find careers.

Ghosted by Moovit

Photo Credit: Sari Ellen

Welcome back to “Dear Daily Freier”, an advice column run by the remarkably unqualified! This week we take the questions of our favorite pen pal, Sari Ellen, who has some issues with a certain jerk Transportation App….

Dear Daily Freier: Hi-oosh!! So last Thursday night, last minute, there was an ad in my girls-only WhatsApp group for a Female Side of the Moon/Cacao Ceremony/Sound Bath Ritual. Only 500 sheks!! WOW!! I hadn’t had a Sound Bath in a week, so I was, like, yalla!!

I paid. Got my e-ticket. Yada yada yada.

I quickly stripped off two layers of clothes; then added the big boots, nine chains and my shih tzu, Schmutzy. I was on my way.

Problem arose when I opened my Moovit app so it could do its thing directing me to the appropriate bus.

In the sweet early days when Moovit and I first got together, Moovit had been super supportive. I’d paid for the ad-free version and Moovit seemed genuinely fascinated by wherever I wanted to go. Moovit listened, he really listened. Noted my preferences. Repeatedly asked when, and precisely how, I yearned to arrive. I’d type in my destination and Moovit figured out the rest. We just worked. No interruptions. No digressions into Incognito Mode to sneak off with another rider. I didn’t think I was misreading the signals. Moovit seemed to be truly madly deeply focused on me.

 I wondered, could Moovit be The One? The app of my dreams? Should I tell my folks in New Jersey? I couldn’t have been happier. Our interaction was satisfying, like pure pleasure. And so, last Thursday, when I told Moovit where I wanted to go, same as I had many times before, the only thing I expected was yet another smooth easy ride.

As always, Moovit set out the route from my home to the closest bus stop. Then Moovit told me when my bus would arrive. I did my share, too. Made it to the bus stop on time. Patiently waited. Six minutes. Five minutes. Four minutes. Three minutes. Two minutes. One minute. Then Moovit said “Now.” Y’know how that goes, right? My bus was coming “Now.”

Only no bus ever came. I stared into the distance. Gajillion trucks, buses, cars, vans, motorcycles, e-bikes, scooters. Everything but the bus I was expecting. I couldn’t believe Moovit would let me down. For another five minutes Moovit insisted my bus was coming “Now.”

And I believed. I really did. But then the word “Now” disappeared from my screen.

My bus was gone. Like how does a whole bus disappear? And how could Moovit have ghosted me like that? Without warning. Not one single waving red flag.

I’ve been very perplexed ever since. Is this the Universe’s way of telling me I should return to New Jersey? Can a bus be commitment-phobic? I mean, after all, we’re talking Tel Aviv. Should I keep waiting at the bus stop? Or, maybe, should I look up that bartender, Dudi, who offered me a ride to wherever I wanted to go…. whenever…. wherever….

Only not to his apartment, because Dudi says that his roommates are almost always home. Also, most of his roommates believe that they’re his kids, while another seems to think that she’s his wife.   

Signed,

Good Vibes Only


Dear Good Vibes Only,

You should totally rebound with that sketchy app Waze who lives in the Shuk but takes his laundry home to his mom in Hadera every weekend.

(Editors Note: If you think this is the first time that the Daily Freier has used Tel Aviv’s public transportation system as a metaphor for boy problems, you have a lot to learn about the Daily Freier.)