Birthing Bread

The scene.  Passover, in the holy city of Jerusalem.

Husband and I are hungry.  No bread to be found in the whole city.  And potato bread sandwiches at the hospital.  Pretty gross. And inedible.

So we leave the hospital in search of some sort of food.

Now, I must stop here and explain that during Passover in Israel, bread is not sold in stores, served in restaurants, etc.  But at the hospital, people are not even allowed to bring in any leavened products (even ones they made at home if they are non religious).  Any non-kosher for passover products found on your person during the security search were confiscated and placed in the “to destroy” box.

Ok, back to the search for food.  Husband and I go to leave the hospital by way of the parking structure, which is shaded from the main security gate by a long staircase.

As we pass an unassuming Arab women, wearing a long gown, just standing on the steps, a large package falls from between her legs and onto the ground.

At first, it took my breath away.  I honestly believed that she had just given birth right there on the steps.  The thud of whatever had fallen from what I could only assume was her crotch was so loud that I honestly thought it was a child or some large tumor.

Until I looked closer and realized it was a giant package of pita bread.  This woman had thought she could fool the security guards by shoving the pita bread into her underwear and waddling through the front door.

Except it fell out.  Just plopped there from the depths of her feminine places.

Husband and I began to chuckle.  Was that what we thought it was?

As we rounded the corner towards our car, we saw the woman hike up her dress and attempt to reposition the pita under her skirt.  Who knows if she was successful in smuggling bread into the hospital or not. I sort of hope she was.

And to you, lady with the pita in her britches, I award to you an Aiming Low award for making craziness an artform.

Any person who writes about random women dropping bread from their gitch is a person we at Aiming Low can get behind. You can read more of Sarah’s stories over at her site, Traveling Marshalls.