Today we read about a salacious and scandalous encounter of the Hebrew kind. Yeshiva University has not been rocked by a literary scandal of this magnitude since the Red Tent came out (though moms love it!). But this mild mannered recounting of college sex-having made us want more! Lucky for us, one commenter giveth that which we desire.

From Pope John Peeps II

How Does My Even Begin to End This

I walked the block between the Coach Store and the Bench Outlet Store, clutching my iPod and my Anthropologie bag in alternate hands. I thought about adjectives. A large person approaches and walks past me. This next person is smaller. This train is long. My lips crack open into a wide grin as I contemplate how good a writer I am.

Token Jewish words float through my head as I meet the eyes of other New Yorkers. Gefilte. Matzo. Hannukkah. I float around the city looking for slightly more artistic words to describe really trite, tedious things. Peeling my face away from the luminous mirror I had stoically decided to confuse my tenses and so was leaving the bathroom when I make pee and poop. Did I mention I had an Anthrpologie bag? It lay there on the chair, shining like a trophy and I feel like I should have mentioned it since I am young and Jewish. Did I mention I was Jewish? Well Yarmulke Yarmulke. There we go.

I have the sex with a guy I had decided to have the sex with. Later, fumbling with my pen, I had convinced myself that after all the pain, all the sacrifice, the fountains of blood, the tide of insect-like skittering that carved through the heart of my tale, I had learned how to write.

Later I bought a dictionary and learned that the plural of rendezvous is rendezvous, not rendezvouses.

Later than that I phoned my cousin.

"Hey. Shpritz."
"Hey. Yarmulke."
"Did you get that Mat and Nat bag?"
"Yeah."
"I made a stupid mistake."
"What did you do?"
My silence is enough of an answer.
"If you think silence is enough of an answer, that's stupid. You have to answer."
"I fucked a dude."
"Well I'm going to be prissy about it, and then you're going to end this conversation and then conclude your day with a vague statement that is supposed to be wise and knowing, and encompassing of the human feelings and frailties that are common to us all, but is actually super-hackneyed."
"Okay. See ya. Israel."
"Yeah Israel."

L'chaim!

[Image via Shutterstock]