Igenerally don’t frequent local stores. The reason is actually quite simple.
I have this aversion to talking about shalom bayis while the woman speaking to me is slurping a Slurpee. I also don’t feel comfortable discussing your child while attempting to distinguish between a yam and a sweet potato (and no they are not “two peas in the same pod”).
Recently I decided to shop where I assumed I might meet a few local congregants — the largest home improvement retailer in the United States: The Home Depot.
I wasn’t in the store for more than five minutes when one bearded coreligionist approached me with the (sometimes dreaded) greeting “Oh Rabbi it’s so bashert I ran into you. I was just thinking about calling you.”
