Legend or Myth

I have been hearing his legends for years. Today I will finally meet the man behind those legendary stories. Or is it a myth. Since arriving to Ner Israel in 11th grade I have been hearing the stories of Yonason. Every time I return after vacation, I am deluged with more Yonason stories. Yonason Yonason Yonason. It is all my classmates want to talk about. The man who left (or was kicked out) after 10th grade has become worshipped by those he left behind.

You would like him, they tell me. He is the coolest guy on the planet.

I have painted a picture of him in my mind. He is six feet tall and huge. His legends brim with stories of girls and defying authority and drinking and smoking.

The day has come. He is going to Mercaz, and I will finally meet the uber-bocher.

He walks in the room. Every image I had of him I shattered. He is not huge. He is not six feet tall. His is shorter than I am.

In four years he will walk down the aisle at my wedding, but today, I am not impressed.

Three hours later we have escaped from night seder to find the girl he helped at the air port. A girl who’s name he cannot remember, but knows it sounds like the sportscar Miata.

We wander around Ben Yehudah street that night, stopping for beer, calling out Miata.

Amazingly, we find her.