“There should be a movie about it. With characters like Motti, Duvy…Shmully…not Chasidish, no Joels – just real Boro Park Yeshivish kids.”
I nod. I’ver heard this before.
“We were punks. I don’t get it. What was wrong with us?”
“It wasn’t that bad. There weren’t turf wars or crack houses.”
“Yeah – but we were lowlives. I mean, 16 years old, sitting around doing nothing all day, and then going out and doing nothing all night…add the drugs and the drinking…it was a mess.”
He takes another wing.
“Why do you think we go so extreme?”
I think about it for a bit. It’s a hard concept to sum up over dinner.
“Maybe because when you grow up with religion, you are naturally more extreme. Not exactly extreme – I guess the word is thorough. We keep Shabbos fully, Kosher is exacting, and we talk about everything in the context of religion. So when you leave, you gotta leave it thoroughly.”
“Like how we become druggies who know and understand our drugs thoroughly?”
“Yeah – Gemarakups.”
“The best drugs, the best way to take them, the best guy to get them from…and the most we can get for our money…”
“There’s a different word for it. You know…what’s that word?”
“Yup – mumcha. Gotta be a mumcha in the business. Gotta do things right.”
“That’s pretty funny. You should write about it.”