I was trying to keep my mouth free of food, slowly nibbling at the fries for something to do with my hands, while I contemplated the intriguing two feet of difference in our heights.
I wanted to kiss this guy so badly, I couldn't even eat my burger.
I once went out for turkey burgers and fries in college with an almost seven-foot-tall Adonis. and then wouldn't stop talking about their Jewishness: being Jewish, being different, being circumcised, being the only Jew who hasn't traveled to Israel, being the only Jew who eats bacon, privately, at home. Good looking guys that made me crack up and want to go out to dinner with them. I've dated some version of Philip Roth a least a dozen times. Not one other writer entered my mind.īut, just for the record, I hate Philip Roth.
I couldn't even imagine choosing a writer other than Roth for this portion of my road trip. Though I left The Garden State by age two, Roth lived most of his life there and became, for me, a voice to represent the curiosity I'd always maintained about my birthplace. Philip Roth and I were born forty years and twenty minutes apart, in neighboring towns in New Jersey.
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