I stood there in front of the counter. Time was running out, my fingers tapping lightly on the glass surface, my eyes examining the store's accessories on display, and my legs alternating between them every few minutes in a completely routine and standard waiting position.
My cell phone has reached an advanced age and has been signaling acute respiratory distress for the past two weeks.
The battery was prone to frequent charging, and required a connection to the main oxygen supply, like a Bedouin camel quenching its thirst at the end of the Sabbath.
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Therefore, I had no real choice and a visit to the service department of 'Pon Pon Communication Accessories and Electronics Ltd.' was more than necessary. I presented my problem to the friendly Jew at the reception desk and waited patiently for the results of the lab test - for life or death.
In my dream, the waiting time at the service stations is spent devouring legal rulings from tiny, paperback holy books. But since I was awake and dreaming away, I took advantage of the time by looking at and noticing the friendly service provider, a young man with a proud face, a large black velvet kippah proudly adorning his head, his beard neatly trimmed like a sketch, and his long, long tassels hanging from his trousers. They were white, so beautiful.
His friendly face greeted all the customers who entered the store with a genuine smile, at a rapid pace, it must be said, and with his rich language, along with his tremendous persuasiveness, he transferred new cellular devices from his possession to the buyers' possession for considerable sums of money, one against the other.
An exemplary marketing person.
My eyes were watching the interesting negotiations. But my heart saw something completely different. My eyes saw a nice Jew working in a media store for a living, but my heart saw the devil incarnate, standing and smiling, smiling and knocking down many young priests, one after another, who only wanted to purchase a cell phone and left the store with a ticking time bomb wrapped in a nice smile and a cheerful face.
The method was simple: they went into the store and asked for the new kosher Nokia, he was too nice and offered the 'prey' Nokia at a reduced price, which was "basically the same thing, just without this unnecessary and stupid theft of kosher certification by these charlatan businessmen.".
When the buyers' mouths and jaws twisted in a smiley face of hesitation, he completed the final, crushing sentence: "In the meantime, I'll stick a kosher sticker on you that's exactly like the original seal, and that way you'll get a normal cell phone without anyone opening their eyes at the synagogue.".
They didn't have time to answer. He was too smart, Nokia was trained before their eyes and the deal was made in the best possible way for both parties.
The left side and the even left side.
The play repeated itself time and time again. One moment with Nokia and the next with "a dual-SIM Samsung that looks exactly like the new kosher Samsung, I'll hack it for you and you can put in both a kosher and an additional SIM so you can see what's going on in the world and catch up a little. Oh, and don't worry, I'll put a complete sticker on you. No one will notice, not even you.".
And they left the store, one after the other, returning to the yeshiva and the kollel, returning to the kitchen and the seminary, with a phone call in their hands, the devil's fancy kosher kosher. For the first time in their lives, they are infected with the predatory bacteria that can enter, but has great difficulty leaving. They are defiled against their will by the impurity of the nations and the filth of the serpent, not by the advice of their instincts or their lusts, just because a lovable Jew must earn his bread and put a little money into his account to purchase a handsome velvet kippah and a long, white, and beautiful tassel.
My eyes saw, and not a stranger.
•
''Pon Pon Communications' does not exist. At least not at the time of writing.
But this shocking case exists, and not in one store or two. Hundreds (!) of innocent media stores that market strictly kosher devices operate in this manner hour after hour, day after day, and the toll is immense.
Hundreds, and perhaps thousands of innocent boys are now making their way in the world, confused and mad in the stormy sea. Drowning up to their heads in mud, clay, and filth, yearning to lift their heads a little and breathe, but unable to.
The devil places a heavy hand on their heads, burying their eyes deep in the abyss of oblivion and preventing them from looking at the real world, not even for a moment. And all of this is through no fault of their own.
The tombstone shops spread throughout Jerusalem and Bnei Brak release hundreds of bodies into the public domain every day, devoid of soul and life, buried like a domino, one on top of the other, among Galaxy chargers and scratch-resistant glass coatings.
Parents, educators, teenagers, know who you are standing before. Open your eyes. Don't be tempted to buy the Samsung with the sticker, which can be removed with a little saliva, but the web spread over your soul that even an expert spider cannot weave is difficult to impossible to remove.
Stay away from ugliness and what resembles it. And from what resembles what resembles it.
