I was saying to Mari between classes yesterday that I owed her great thanks. Saturday evening I had watched the close of the modern adaptation of Moliere's The Misanthrope, which Ben directed. (Ben is another new faculty member, in Theatre and Music. Like Mari, he's Jewish, and the two of them give me wonderfully creative pseudo-crap about being Catholic.) We gathered later at the cocktail bar called Cure, not too far from my place, in order to celebrate Ben's birthday. And there Mari gave me a line that's still cracking me up. I had ordered an appetizer along with our drinks, and certainly never even thought about sharing, I'm afraid, as I was simply hungry and figured everyone else could order something if they wanted to. So I went with this interesting-sounding "Mountain Ham & Anjou Pears." (Thin-Sliced 12 Month Aged Serrano Ham; Sherry-Poached Anjou Pears). Upon arrival:

Mari: What's that?
Me: Ham and pears.
Mari: Is it kosher?
Me: ... [in a what's-wrong-with-you/instructing-an-idiot-child tone] It's haaaaam.

I don't know, maybe it was a "delivery" kind of funny. But I thought it was hysterical....