PURE SHIKSA

A young girl in fishnet stockings walked by, as in too young for us. Not particularly exotic looking- maybe Italian, could be Jewish. Sometimes you can’t tell.

I raised my eyebrows and looked at old Jack, then indicated the girl.

“No, I like a shiksa,” he said.

“Well, she may be a shiksa.”

“No, I mean a pure shiksa.”

“Oh, like a statuesque Scandinavian type? Tall, blonde?”

“Yes, tall and blonde.” Old Jack pounded his chest. “With a big gold crucifix.”
cruc ifix

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