Brief history lesson for the non-Jews/Muggles out there: Long ago, the oppressive Pharaoh refused to free thousands of his Jewish slaves. So, the Jewish people called the Big Man Upstairs asking for help. In response, he unleashed ten plagues on the Egyptian people (locusts, frogs, death of firstborn child, you know, the usual). Finally, Pharaoh allowed the Jewish people to leave. Since they were in such a hurry to leave a ruler who had enslaved them for years, they had no time to pack their belongings or prepare meals. So they took whatever they could grab, including thousands and thousands of loaves of unleavened bread (because really, how bad could it be?) So today we celebrate our ancestors freedom each year by not eating anything with flour in it for eight days. That’s as far as I got in the Rugrats Passover episode so I’m assuming no spectacular Michael-Bay-directed stunt-miracles occurred after that.
Last semester I recorded my thoughts on Yom Kippur, the Jewish day of atonement, for the GW Patriot. In order to atone for our sins, Jews must fast for 24 hours, from sundown to sundown. It was brutal. When the eating ban had finally been lifted, I walked outside the synagogue and saw Justice Elena Kagan engulf a Twinkie. True story. So this year, I thought I would do the same thing for the final day of Passover. Don’t get me wrong, eating flourless products is 100x easier than not eating at all. But after eight days you start losing yourself a little bit. On the last day of Passover, the 21st of the Jewish month of Nisan (yes, we name our months after Japanese car companies), I recorded my thoughts.
Saturday, April 14: The End is Near
10:24am: I wake up in a pouring sweat. I had a dream last night. It’s the same dream I’ve been having since Passover began. I dreamt I was being chased by the army of breads at Whole Foods. Easily in the top 5 of most terrifying nightmares of my life, right next to when I dreamt Newt Gingrich ate me.
11:44am: I’m giving my weekly tour to prospective students when we walk by the GW Deli. “What’s that?” asks the precocious redhead who looked disturbingly similar to Pippi Longstockings. “Oh that?” I say. “That’s nothing, we can walk past it.” They ignore it. But inside my heart breaks. I’m not from New York, so the GW Deli is my source of bagels and sandwiches. And I’ve missed it so much. On the third day of Passover I stood outside the Deli in the pouring rain, hoping Joe (the owner) would throw some burnt bread out for me like Peeta did for Katniss in The Hunger Games. But he never showed up.
12:21pm: Lunch, which I would argue is one of the three most important meals of the day. I ran out of matzah, which I believe is a blessing in disguise. My friend recommended I go to this place called “Sweetgreen”. It seems hip, looks pretty cool. But as soon as I enter, I have no idea where I am. Everything is confusing. The food is strange and I’ve never heard of it. Luckily, my friend took a video camera and we documented my voyage to “sweetgreen”, which you can see here. Never again. Never again.
4:02pm: I’m watching Hulu to catch up on a show I will not name, but I will say it features Zooey Deschanel playing a bubbly and independent person. It’s delightful, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. But what is prominently featured in every commercial? Bread. First it’s Applebee’s new sandwiches. Then it’s a commercial where Mom makes like 40 sandwiches for her kid’s soccer team. Do you know how many loaves of bread that is? DO YOU!? Then it’s President Palmer from 24 trying to sell me car insurance. That has nothing to due with Passover or bread. I just think it’s unfortunate how his career has plummeted.
7:32pm: I’m at Relay for Life, which in all seriousness helps fund great cause worth committing time and effort to. But it also means I’m locked in the Lerner Health & Wellness Center for the rest of the night. But as I walk through the gym and towards my group, I smell a familiar scent. Is it? No, it couldn’t be. But that’s when I see my fellow Jews on my team pulling out a bag. A bag that could only hold one item: bagel. It is the greatest thing I have ever eaten. My senses return from me. I look behind me and see Justice Elena Kagan in the corner of the gym attacking a baguette like a mountain lion attacking a gazelle. I don’t know why she keeps showing up at these moments. But I dig it.
Note: This post was written purely for satirical purposes. While the events are true, any commentary is meant for humorous purposes and should not be taken seriously. Except for the part where President Palmer sells car insurance. That is a sad event that should be taken very, very seriously.
Also, the Patriot is accepting humor pieces for our “I Like Free Money Humor Contest.” The grand prize is $200. I’m as shocked that we have that much to give away freely as you are. You can get all the details about the contest and how to submit your pieces here. Good luck to all! And may the odds be ever….don’t do it, Sam. You promised yourself you wouldn’t say it. Don’t fall for the easy trap…