When he sees me, he laughs. 

“ You look… like a married Jewish woman, ” he says shaking his head.

“ More Jewish than you? ” 

“ Most definitely,” he says, as we both giggle up the stairs and past the men in bullet-proof vests and caps.

“ And why… may I ask, are you wearing a wig? ” 

“ Idk- I panicked! Isn’t the blonde mildly triggering because… you know… ”

“ No, what?” He asks with a smirk.

“ Jews… can be blonde. Carla- my mum- is a prime example of this.”

“No!”

“Yes!” At that, we laughed some more as he tries to pet my wig and I swat his hands away. 

Inside, I watch as he quickly ascends the stairs after a women with her arms full of children. He then gestures at me to which she nods and I nervously follow her up the stairs, to the women’s section.

The women’s section leads to a balcony, quite Romeo and Juliet-esk. I hide myself up the back as women of all ages line the rows while the men occasionally peer up from below.

I immediately love the higher vantage point and being able to see the whole room and almost everyone in it. 

The service then begins, signalled by the male choir. 

Despite not knowing the language- the sound of soft, velvety tones fill up the room almost instantly. It sounds like what you would expect to hear if Heaven was opening.

Next came the chaotic flux of getting up, turning certain ways and then sitting down again. I never knew when it was going to happen, so I stayed stuck to the edge of my chair.

On top of that, I couldn’t help but watch one person go from licking a giant lollipop to smelling their whole foot.

Then there were the kids sprinting around in sequin dresses and bows flying in all directions; and the occasional lolly wrapping slowly floating down, to land on some man’s head…

At some point in the service, trays of lollies were handed around as I curiously watched grandmothers take fist-fulls and violently stuff them into their bags.

In the midst of all this, I spot one smile I was becoming accustomed to.

I enjoyed watching him awkwardly wander around, trying to find the right book that everyone seems to have.

“ So, how was tonight? ” – he asks as we leave briskly. 

“ Tonight was goooood! ” I say, resting my hand on his arm. 

“ And when is the wig leaving us?” 

“ Why? You don’t like it?” I ask cheekily. 

“ I do- you look beautiful in whatever you wear, but it doesn’t look like you.” 

I don’t feel much like me of late- I want to say, but I don’t. 

So I instead change the subject-

“ I feel like…  cigarettes and Scotch. You?” 

“Menthol or Marlboro?” he asks as I throw the brunette wig into the closest bin. 

                                                      

A few months ago, my Friday nights were always kept for someone else.

Since we wouldn’t speak much during the week due to his job, the weekends were the only time we would spend floating around together, without anywhere to be. 

I remember the minute he would arrive through the door; we were so excited to see each other that he would smother me in kisses before chasing my dog around the lounge as the candles glowed gold… 

At the bar, I drain the last of the Scotch before he hands me the end of his cigarette.

The taste is so awful it feels like I’m choking on said candles, with the flame still alight in my throat.

“So… you’re leaving for London soon. I don’t know if this is a rebound for you, but I’m fine with it if it is,” he says boldly. 

I splutter, handing him the cigarette back.

“ I mean… I don’t want to use anyone like that. I think I just need a week to kind of figure things out. “

He sits back in his chair. 

“ Well I’m confused… You ask me out and then you tell me you need a week off? ” 

I smile, apologetically and take the unicorn firgureine out of his pocket and place it on the table between us. 

“ Pony Pam will keep you company- I promise!” 

He looks at the horse and then back at me with a smirk.

“ You know, we don’t need to do this. I don’t mind if we never reach the bedroom, I just have a really fun time with you. “

I bought the Pony from the Post Office that morning, as it reminded me of a running joke about unicorns being the equivalent of finding Jewish people on dating apps. However, it also reminded me of how I seemed to date.

Despite being an extrovert, I have always been a slow-burn. I always envied those who could jump in without thinking twice but I just knew it wasn’t me.

I needed to be approached like a wild animal- slow and patient, with treats and gestures, before I knew it was safe.

My phone then sprang to life, letting me know my Uber had arrived.

As I get up to leave, I switched off the table light before kissing him. 

I could taste the Scotch and fear swirl around in the bottom of my stomach, but I chose to ignore it, as this guy was the complete opposite to my last.

I mean.. it would be stupid not to try with someone who enjoyed communicating consistently. 

Someone who planned dates and who brought surprises. 

Someone who my dad would like; someone who holds my feet because I won’t let him hold my hand, as we watch Reality TV. 

It also felt special to feel wanted and more than that, appreciated.

It was a feeling I wasn’t used to.

After I got home and brushed my teeth, his old toothbrush tumbled out of the cabinet and fell into the sink. 

And almost instantly, my heart ached by much I missed him. 

How close we were; we would share the bathroom before bed, chat about our day, share a shower, brush each other’s teeth and laugh until someone snorted… 

My heart was so pathetic; it didn’t seem to know how to push out the very few people it allowed in.

But I was working on it… tonight was me trying.