Today at work, a colleague came by to say good morning. Sal, a burly Italian from New Jersey, bears a certain resemblance to Tony Soprano, but he's as sweet as a lamb and an absolute gent. He's only in the office two days a week so he always makes the social rounds to say hello when he's here. He came into my office and immediately wished me a happy new year. Confused, I said, "Sal, it's September." He nodded and said, "Yeah, and you better start atoning for your sins. Yom Kippur is next week." When I gave him a puzzled look, he said, "Aren't you Jewish?" I said, "Sal, why on earth do you think I'm Jewish?" I mean, I think my appearance is as close to shiksa as you can get and there's that whole love affair I got going on with pork. He replied, "Well, you're always talkin' that Yiddish." I took it as a compliment.

Oy vey. This story had Mamela in stitches.