Tel Aviv, Sheinkin: I am sure my dad would be surprised at dating today – he met my mum at a Valentine’s Day disco in Liverpool – asked if she wanted crisps. She did. They were married for 40 years. Maybe it was Bamba.
Today, have we gone completely nuts? The gay world, literally. If a shared love of crisps belongs to a bygone era, at least let technology be accurate. As a sexual navigation app, it fails. Often.
Here’s Juan Carlos, he is from Chihuahua, Mexico. Oh. Does the Number 63 Bus go there? Can I use my RavKav? Waze says no. Once, someone in Cairo messaged me because his GPS said I was around the corner. Maybe we were once ‘one’ in Canaan. But in 2017? Not so much.
As the technological retreat gathers pace, they are now setting up special wards at Ichilov Hospital for people getting carpal tunnel syndrome from swiping through Atraf at 20 profiles per minute. I should know…. I was just in outpatients. Swipe, scroll, drool, click, next. I could not help marvelling at the talking nipples, zooming in on their bathroom mirror to see if they have used Windolene (you can tell a lot about places and people from their bathrooms, they say). And then, the Sears catalogue of the obligatory selfie at the gym – the new photo booth of the 21st century. I tried. Called someone over to help me lift the 50kg bar bell…….. aaaaand that’s why I was really at Ichilov.
“Host?” has become the new hello; the winky emoticon as close to a technological marriage as possible. I am rather partial of the little embarrassed one with deformed jazz hands. Spellings go out the window. ‘Have u got plans?’ Yes: You, Me, Shopping, Oxford English Dictionary. If you know how to use a comma, marry me. Just tell me what crisps you want at the wedding.
Tel Aviv: Police are looking into the strange appearance of a drunken man in downtown Tel Aviv claiming to be the prophet Elijah. With just three weeks to go to Passover, detectives are puzzled by the man apparently called Eliyahu, who seems to be off his head on Kedem wine.
“He was screaming that his father was Avi Koman and that he was the real deal but we have seen it all here.” pointed out Police Superintendent Nadav B. “One year, some guy was arrested inside a giant chocolate egg claiming to be Roger Rabbit. There is a lot of wine flowing this time of year and we have just finished Purim. It could be part of a long, lingering national hangover.”
What remains a mystery is that he was spotted going door to door near Rothschild Boulevard by Jehovah’s Witnesses (who initially thought he was one of their own) wearing only a white sheet from the Sheraton Hotel and hiking sandals. While the Jehovah’s Witnesses were busy pestering people spreading the good word outside the AM/PM Market, ‘Elijah’ was seen stumbling around front gardens, knocking stray cats off trash cans and pressed up against kitchen windows asking for extra eggs in salt water.
One neighbour on Sheinkin Street said: “It’s usually very gentrified around here. Occasionally you’d get a protest about the cost of soya milk, but there aren’t often disturbances. But this guy was screaming, ‘I’ll give you a plague of frogs, let me in, I’m Elijah! I’ve got locusts, crabs, everything.‘ Weird.”
After he started squeezing tomato ketchup packets onto doorposts, horrified locals called the police. Briefly questioned, he was then admitted to the rehabilitation ward at Ichilov hospital pending DNA tests. He is currently sharing a padded room next to a middle age man claiming to be a reincarnated Queen Esther, a pair of twins alleging they survived on Noah’s Ark, and a disciple threatening to spill the beans on the real Mary Magdalene.
Live from Tel Aviv. This is like Satire and Stuff.