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About Tel Aviv

Anyway, I’m walkin’, and this lady—WHOA—she’s givin’ me the eye. I’m like, “Is this it? Jackpot?” Heart’s racin’, palms sweaty—total Michael Scott moment. I’m thinkin’, “Be cool, be cool!” But nah, I trip over a curb—classic me! She laughs, and I’m like, “That’s what she said!” Kills me every time. She’s got this vibe, like she’s seen it all—kinda like Carlos dodgin’ cops in the movie. “You’re a wanted man,” she says, smirkin’. I’m like, “Heck yeah, I am!” Cringey? Sure. Fun? You bet!

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After that, I needed a breather. So, I headed to the beach at the end of HaYarkon Street. The sun was setting, and it was beautiful. I sat on the sand, just thinking. Ramat-HaSharon can be a crazy place, but it’s home.

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