My Jewish Girl Friends

“You should thank God that you know me! I’m Jewish!” was one of the first things that my new girl friend said to me. This was many years ago before I knew anything about Jews and before I understood anything about the Caucasian dilemma.

Today, I wouldn’t touch a Jewess with a ten foot pole sterilized with formaldehyde. But when I was a young man, that they were willing females was all that mattered then.

“Jewish?” I asked as I held her at arm’s length trying to see what was so different about her that she thought was so important. “What does that matter? Here, let’s unbutton that uncomfortable-looking blouse.”

She stepped closer to me and cooed, “You don’t know how lucky you are. If it wasn’t for us Jews, you would never have been born.” And she pressed against me and threw her arms back so that her blouse slipped off onto my bed and then she hugged me tightly.

I worked cleverly at the snap to her skirt and asked, “Ah, yes. You mean the Old Testament about Adam and Eve?” And her skirt dropped down around her ankles.

“Of course, Adam and Eve,” she murmured as she looked into my eyes with bated breath. “The first people ever created were Jews. You Gentiles only exist because we Jews are here to bless you.” And as I laid her down gently onto my bed wearing no more than did Adam and Eve in the Garden, she whispered dreamily, “And I am going to bless you now. Ah, Paradise!”

And bless me, she did. And what a blessing it was! It was a blessing that lasted for many weeks, too. I had to boil the sheets and fumigate the bedding and drench my whole body in noxious insecticides before I could get rid of all the crabs that she blessed me with.

But being a young man who didn’t know any better, several years later I picked up a willing wench at a jumpin’, jivin’ nightspot. We had a pretty good time dancing and hugging. So, I took her back to my cabin in the piney woods for some more serious grab-ass. She was a city girl and the bright moon and stars thrilled her so, that she insisted upon running around naked in the woods before I could corner her in my boudoir. It was then and only then as I laid her long hair against the pillow and began the initial explorations that she whispered, “Does it matter to you that I’m Jewish?”

“Why should that matter?” I asked softly. “Here we are in this moment in time, a moment that will never happen again. Two people in love, beneath the moon and stars. Love is all that we need right now,” I crooned. Besides being an ignorant fool back then, I had a lot of that New Age crap rolling around between my ears as I continued. “Why would it matter what you are? You’re beautiful!” I lied. She wasn’t ugly and she wasn’t beautiful, either, but what better way to shut her up?

The ploy must have worked because she wrapped her arms around me and whispered in my ear, “And you, too, are beautiful! This night I will be a blessing to you.” Vaguely, I sort of remembered words like that sometime before but in the passion of the moment, I wasn’t interested in words. But bless me she did. The doctor gave me simultaneous shots from four penicillin syringes at once to purge me of her Jewish blessing.

Yes, I was bad man. I liked to frolic with the women without marrying any of them. I know now that my lost and troubled soul was really only seeking the solace of God, but I kept falling into the clutches of the devil. So, I improved myself and read the Bible and all the other scriptures from the world’s religions that I could find, determined to become a better man. But I was weak. I kept running into willing women. And I didn’t ever run away from any of them like I should have, but like a moth toward the flame, I always flew.

And among all of these delightful angels along came another who invited me to her apartment. I had met her at the library and our interest in books was the fatal attraction since two people looking at the same book, is always cozy.

This girl was kind of unusual in that she liked to whisper. There was no one around her apartment to overhear even a loud conversation. But she whispered anyway, ever so softly. I had never heard a woman or anyone else for that matter whisper so softly. And as I held her in my arms, pressing her against the couch, softly, ever so softly she whispered in my ear. “Does it matter to you that I’m Jewish?”

Like a jack-in-the box, I jumped from the couch to a standing position bolt upright on the floor. “Jewish!?” I yelled. “Jewish!? No, it don’t matter to me that you’re Jewish!” I began gathering up my books and my jacket and then walked toward the door.

She did not whisper a bit but began to be increasingly boisterous. “Oh, so that’s it! You’re a bigot! You’re prejudiced against Jews! You’re an anti-Semite! You’re a Nazi!”

I turned slowly and stared at her as she stood furiously with her fists clenched.

“Now, you’re telling lies and slandering me. I’m just a normal guy like anybody else. If I have any prejudice against you, it’s only from having known a few of you too many. And I can tell you this: If there were no Jews in the world, there would be no anti- Semitism. But wherever you find Jews, you will also find anti-Semitism. So, tell me, if you can, you bitch, is anti-Semitism there because of you Jews or because of us normal guys?”

A surprised look opened her features, then she shrieked, “Get out of here!”

And that’s the last of my Jewish girl friends.


Author: William Forrest
Edited by k0nsl


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