Not in Kansas Anymore

A brief one this morning before class, after an excruciating night highlighted by my knee finally giving out and forcing us home early. I'll be taking Uber to and from class for the next few days, at $30 a pop, and any walkable fun in NYC is out of the question. Not great.

So, on Sunday we were driving back here from Corning and decided to stop for gas up in Monroe, NY, just outside of West Point before the final push into the city. We pulled into an Exxon whose sign announced "Kosher on the Go" offerings inside.

I noticed pretty quickly that the guy pumping gas next to me had the all black outfit, wide brimmed hat, tzitzits dangling along his waist. Another emerged from the store in the same costume, and the security guard in the all black Cadillac was dressed the same.

We had somehow bumbled into an Orthodox Jewish convenience store.

We were surprised that the place was as ill-maintained as it was, trash cans overflowing and no TP in the bathroom. Every customer except your author and the lovely Peg was Jewish, and male. The staff was entirely Hispanic, save two sushi chefs behind a cooler filled with their handiwork. And despite the general unkemptness of the place, the hot buffet looked absolutely amazing, with what appeared to be not only kosher offerings, but several Mexican dishes. Maybe Mexican food is consistent with Jewish food laws. Who knows?

Ironically, Peg had hoped to pick up a bag of pork rinds for the journey. Gefilte fish they had. Blintzes they had. Pork rinds? Not so much.

What an amazing corner of the world this is. Like a whole other country. Or several.

Off to class.