Late, on a warm night in early spring, I ran down Dizengoff, with a close friend, and large black permanent marker in my bag. On walls, signs, and poles, I tagged the words “i ME mine,” after the song by George Harrison. After seeing images of “Know Hope” and various other illegal markings throughout the city, I became part of the inspirational delinquency, in an effort to remind myself, and those around me, to forfeit the cage of our own egos, our “I,” in search of something more meaningful outside of ourselves.
Category Archives: Crime committed
I was a teenager. I skipped school. I took the bus to the city and smoked cigarettes everywhere.
My crime committed was of the emotional sort. After a back and forth affair, a desire for a man that could not be captured. The day after my birthday – at the port in Yafo. A fish dinner and a beer each – we walked back along the boardwalk to Tel Aviv overlooking the water. However futile I know that this love is, it is inescapable and the crime was against myself – my heart. Letting the cold air of the winter months hit our bodies, we grasped each other tightly, clasping our hands and embracing each other. He pulled me in under the stars with the mosque of Yafo in the background. We sat, above the sea, my feet over his lap. Kissing, caressing. The waves crashing serenely below us. This moment captures Tel Aviv for me. Hope, lust, sensuality, excitement in something foreign yet completely comfortable. A city which leads my emotions to take hold over the rationalization of my mind. Experiences like no other, whether permanent or fleeting.
Well, apart from Rabin’s murder and a plethora of terrorist attacks on Tel Aviv and on myself, I remember one more crime which, unlike the previously mentioned, was my doing. It was a spring afternoon, I was walking around with a friend on Dizengoff street. We had a standard hangout routine- hang out, drink juice at Tamara on Dezingoff corner of Ben Gurion, walk around Kikar Rabin a bit, comb through music and book stores, smoke on the light blue benches at Yaacob Agam’s fountain on Dizengoff… On the afternoon in question, while on our way to Kikar Dizengoff, drinking carrot-ginger-orange juice from Tamara we walked by what seemed like a new, or maybe one we just never noticed before- pet store. In the window we saw cute little hamsters in large glass cases. We walked in, to get a closer look- “cute little hamster puppies!” we said to each other and started to play with them a bit. I put my finger into the box to touch and pet them. I was very gentle with them, but suddenly, out of the blue, while I was petting them and excitedly sharing their cuteness with my friend I guess one of them got scared, or just decided to respond to my finger with animal instinct and bit me. Not realizing what the painful prick to my finger was, I pulled my hand out of the box in response to the sharp pain I felt. But this is not the tragic part of the story. The whole thing happened within a few seconds- As I pulled my finger out with instinctive panic and flung it in the air, I noticed, out of the corner of my eye the hamster, who had attached itself to my finger, getting sharply flung towards the ceiling, hitting it hard, landing with a loud thump on the floor. It seemed to recover for a moment, then looked confused and began to run around in a shocked zig-zag. It made a wrong turn and ran out of the pet store, towards the road. My friend and I watched in shock as it was run over by a car on the road in front of Agam’s fountain. The shop keeper didn’t even notice, he was busy with paying customers. Like embarrassed criminals, we said nothing. We were shocked, laughing our heads off and crying at this tragicomic scene that had just occurred. We ran out, so no one in the store would know what had just happened.