Waving Hasids

"Do you think that they're gays?" asked Mark.

We were walking our three, yes three, dogs up Spencer Street around 11 PM last night, for they're final pee prior to our going to sleep. We live at the corner of Myrtle Avenue and Spencer Street at the North-West tip of Bed Stuy Brooklyn, in the land of Hassidic Jews and empty warehouses. It's an emerging neighborhood although it's hibernating from the look of it.

"What are you talking about?"

"There." Mark pointed at a min-van across the street, engine running, with it's light on, but going nowhere. "Didn't you always say that they hide out and meet in their cars?"

"Oh, right. I forgot. Who? Them?" I gestured by nodding my chin up and out. "What is he doing?"

The Hassid in the driver's seat, furthest from us was waving at us. The gesture had a "hello" format to it, but he was doing it frantically and furiously.

"Oh god. He's waving!" Mark panicked. "Ah! Now the other one is doing it too! Hurry. Let's go. He's about to roll down his window!"

To add to that pandemonium, our golden retriever, Maddy, started bark the gay Jews in the mini-van. She is an old, cranky lady. She barks at strangers regularly, especially if they're running or wearing a hoodie.

As I dragged her up the street, she kept barking. Usually she stops as soon as the irritant is out of range. Not this time. She kept pulling back and barking.

"She does not like them!" Mark had the other two dogs - Misha the mutt and Gabey the cocker spaniel. They hadn't noticed anything, sniffing and meandering along. "What do you think they wanted?"

"Maybe they are gay Jews and they were waving at us out of solidarity." I was glad to be clear but we still had to U-turn back down the block to get home. "I wonder if they are gay and have to hang out in their cars to meet. There's got to be a better way. They're the Internet for Christ's sake. I wonder if they have the Internet, if it's allowed."

"How're we going to get home?" Mark asked.

"Head down. Eyes forward."