Though the walk from the Union Square station was short, I felt the cold of the winter night as I walked along West 16th Street. I was warmed by the sight of the small, lovely Center for Jewish History building. I had traveled from one of the provinces, Brooklyn, to see a screening of a documentary. I checked my coat, learned a lot about the Jews of San Francisco and, now informed, warm and happy, headed for the coat check. Two women were ahead of me on line. One held the stubs for both. She gave them to the young woman behind the counter who retrieved their coats and handed them over to her one at a time. The woman looked at the first coat, turned around and gave it to her friend.

     “Here’s my coat.”

     “I don’t want your coat! Why would I want your coat?”

     “I’m not giving you to wear. I’m giving you to hold!”

I couldn’t help laughing. They heard me laughing, and they stopped talking and laughed at my laughter. They were smiling. I said, “Such a nice slice of Jewish conversation.” This seemed to delight them even more. One of the women said, “Ha! We made a hit!”.

     They did.