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Show 179 "Christ, lots of Jews have German names," said Pinsky. "What does Brocken mean?" "Crumb." "That's insulting enough to be Jewish." "I look too Aryan though." The elevator man nodded agreement. "Come on, Aby, that Aryan stuff's a myth. You don't think Jews believe that? There's lots of blond, blue-eyed Jews. With rosy cheeks too. Don't be so prejudiced." To avoid being prejudiced I went in with them, the three of us lined up at the receptionist's desk. She whipped out three cards. "Name please?" "Leonard Pinsky." Zip, zip she wrote it down. "Yours?" "Nathan Horowitz." Zip, zip she wrote it down. "Yours?" "Chester Brocken." She started to write, looked up at me. "How do you spell that?" "Which? Chester or Brocken?" "Both." Everyone laughed. Everyone laughed except me, even the receptionist. I spelled them for her, face red. One by one we were called back to the booths the interviewers used. I sat down. At the desk sat a square, stocky, grey-haired man reading my card. "Chester Brocken, eh? You're from--how do you pronounce this?--Escalante, Colorado? Colorado is out west somewhere?" He had an accent and looked at me firmly. "Isn't Brocken a German name?" "Dutch." |