“Jacobs, you’re from Baltimore, you probably know real English, write him some good words, come on…”
“O
oooh mamesh the next Ishay Rebo,” Boruch Zeldman crowed. “Someone needs to get you a black shirt and you’re all set.”
“Oh stop it, I just used a few Hebrew words, that’s all.” Chesky Lorb lowered the guitar and used his freed-up hand to push his glasses back up on his nose. “I don’t know too much Hebrew. I just thought it was cute.”
“You though it was cute to use Lev Sheli in the first five words? You didn’t chap that it’s like, a total rip-off from Ribo?” Zeldman’s tone was teasing, not mocking, and Lorb laughed easily.
“Okay, okay, I’ll change it. I have other Hebrew words I know. Kisei. Shulchan. Mah Koreh achi. That’s it.”
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