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I'm not responsible for Kashrus either

I happened to find myself in Lawrence, today. Lawrence is a busy little hamlet tucked away in between Rockville Center, Valley Stream, and Long Beach, not too far from where Nassau County turns into Queens. This area reminds me of a couple of my college suitemates, who, being from Queens, were pretty disdainful toward Long Islanders. And though Queens is physically part of Long Island, they insisted that they were not in anyway shape or form, Long Islanders. They called us FLIDs. Since this is a family show, I can’t tell you what the F stands for. Or for that matter the D. Rest assured, the LI in FLIDs stood for Long Island. And while they may have had a point about what suburbia does to young person, fresh out of high school and attending a local college on Long Island, I still think that they were understating the fact that the line between Queens and Nassau can be very blurry.

So whenever I am out in Lawrence, or any place west of Baldwin, let’s say, I am reminded of my Queens suitemates, because I begin to believe that I am actually in Queens, except we can still turn right on red. But everything is closer together, the shops, the cars on the roads, the insane amount of traffic lights, and the neighborhoods, themselves. I mention the neighborhoods, because I think I was in Lawrence, but I may have been in Hewett, or Hewett Park, or Hewett Place, or Hewett Packard. (I’m only making one of those up.)

At any rate, I stopped for gas, and ran into the convenience store attached to the station in Lawrence or Hewitt, or whatever, and got a cup of coffee and the absolute best prepackaged-bagel-that-had-been-sitting-there-for-hours ever. (You knew I’d be talking about food or some-such eventually, right?) The everything bagel was soft and moist, with just the right snap on the outside, and it had an onion and oil spread in the middle that was savory and complemented the bagel perfectly. I knew I was getting something good because it was wrapped with a seal that said, “Important Notice: Not responsible for Kashrus if packaging is not intact.”

I assumed, rightly it turned out after I checked on Google, that Kashrus was some sort of Kosher terminology. Well, actually, Kashrus is the actual state of being Kosher. But I was still impressed that they were so worried about someone sneaking a shrimp into the bagel as it was sitting in the gas station, they’d seal it with this warning.

And I did mention it was delicious, right? Damned gas stations in Suffolk don’t have anywhere near that quality of quick food. Stupid FLIDs.