I’m standing in line at the post office. The two women behind me are having a conversation. I don’t know either one. I’m eavesdropping, because there isn’t anything better to do while waiting in line.
The first asks, “Are you still tutoring? I have a friend who is looking for a tutor for her daughter.”
Therein follows a conversation about why she is doing less tutoring these days.
The first woman then says, “I’m not sure when her Bat Mitzvah is. They just set the date, it’s at Beit Ahavah.”
Now I pipe in, because, really, I have to.
“Hi, I’m the B’nei Mitzvah coordinator at Beit Ahavah. I can tell you when her date is.” And I did.
No one in this town is more than one degree of separation from anyone else in town, and apparently, every other person is Jewish.