Category Archives: Falling in love

Under the Dizingoff Center bridge

It was 10 years ago and I was sixteen. I came with some of my friends to meet some of their friends. We were girls and boys, and we shook each other’s hands and smiled. One of them was introduced to me as GB (full name is mine to know
I said: “oh, so you’re GB. I hear about you all the time.” He was surprised.
He said: “I hear about you all the time too”. I knew he was lying. He smiled.
He was tall and thin with a terrible Afro and french goatee.
We all entered the “Center” to play some arcade games. GB and I played “Tekken 3″. I don’t remember who won. After that we all sneaked to the roof and found a closed swimming pool, so we wandered the streets, shouting and screaming and laughing and flirting with everything around us.
I thought about him all summer and wooed him all fall. We were an adolescent couple for the next winter and spring and then broke up, as adolescent couples do.
8 years later he wrote me a love letter while I was living with my ex-Parisian-boyfriend in Paris.
A year after that we were married.
It’s the 1st of April and it’s a sunny day. He’s at work now I’m at our apartment, thinking how to fool him when he returns…

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Rothchild boulevard

First stop- Rotchield boulevard, Tony Vespa.
He looked at me I looked at him
He didn’t eat pizza, I didn’t eat pizza
He stayed I walked away.
Second stop- corner of dizingof eben gbirol
He – in his car, I – on my bike
He honked at me …
And the rest is history

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Daniel Moritz street

I was nine years old and in deep mourning over the death of my first cat, who was large and mean. My parents, who hadn’t wanted a cat to begin with, were worried about me (and I suspect were also fully converted into cat-people by then) and decided it was time for us to get a new cat. I adamantly refused, claiming it had not been even a year since J died while pursuing a pigeon. I was not ready to love again.
One late afternoon I was playing in the yard under our apartment building when I heard the cries of a small kitten. I followed the sound and found a small, ferocious ginger cat. He was completely helpless, but didn’t seem to know it, and had the demeanor of a fallen dictator. I was in love. We took him in and he lived a nice, long life with us. He chased other cats, broke or sprained all four limbs in various feline adventures and even adopted his own kitten once.

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Dizingoff/Gordon

June 1998. The first, or was it the third Friday night? (Once I knew.) Heading home to Frishman/Sirkin, I walk south on the east side of Dizingoff. A man passes me. We both look back at precisely the same time. Not turning to pillars of salt, he crosses the street. I follow. He looks in a store window. I look in one too. Gazith. As if our desire is something that can be bought or tried on like a pair of shoes. Nervously, I walk past him, then stop on the corner of Gordon and turn around. “Mah shlomcha?” “How are you?” he asks. I mishear the question as “Mah shimcha?” and answer with my name, revealing in an instant that I was born in another land. Six months later, I made aliyah to Israel and to him, thinking that had I done any one thing differently in my life – had I stopped – or not stopped to tie my shoelaces in the third grade – we wouldn’t have been on that street corner in Tel Aviv at the same time. Maybe we had passed each other a hundred times before. Or maybe I would have met someone else a block further south. But for the years that followed (and even walking past that junction today), the corners of my heart were filled.

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