The Last Jewish Virgin

Chapter 2

2 2 T he Bennett Institute of Art and Design was a tall, sleekly renovated building downtown on the west side near the river in a neighborhood that not too many years before had been utilitarian, unfashionable, and downright seedy in spots. But now it was upscale and chic, dotted with restaurants, hotels, and boutiques teeming with uber-celebrities of all sorts: actors; models; the offspring of rock stars; real estate, fashion, and computer entrepreneurs—all proudly wearing the latest fashions and dining upon tiny portions of various ethnic cuisines du jour. To my Jewish feminist mother’s great chagrin, I intended to become a fashion designer and to join their glamorous ranks, even though she’d brought me up not to idealize wealth and privilege. She was very disappointed in me, and didn’t hesitate to show me her disappointment . “The only life worth living,” she said, “is one dedicated to tzedakah and tikkun olam.” Tzedakah means charity and tikkun olam means repairing the world, and she felt strongly that fashion design had nothing to do with either. When I arrived at Bennett, I walked quickly through the spacious lobby toward my first class. Some of the walls were a muted blue color, clearly intended to soothe, while others were sharp and metallic. Quiet, realistic still lifes of fruits and flowers hung Janice Eidus 3 beside splashy, wild abstracts. The décor, with its cultivated dissonance , created a pulsing energy that I loved. I stood in the doorway of the classroom, looking in. I wasn’t particularly interested in taking this class, Drawing From the Imagination, but it was a requirement. I was far more interested in the more commercial fashion classes. I noted that the room had high ceilings, and was large and brightly lit. The drawing tables were paint-splattered, and there were no chairs, just tall, uncomfortable -looking stools, upon which sat two males and about ten females. Walking slowly into the room, my stilettos clicking sharply on the floor, I held my head high, growing acutely aware of the way my clinging vampire dress outlined my bones and curves. At the back of the room, I sat down at an empty table and parked my purse and portfolio. When I looked up, I was surprised to meet the intense gaze of the young man at the table beside mine. Even though my feet barely grazed the floor, I adjusted my posture on the tall, uncomfortable stool so that my back was straight and my head high. I couldn’t help but notice that he was attractive, although I tried not to pay too much attention to the opposite sex, since I planned to remain a virgin for many years to come. Lust, sex, love, and marriage would all take backseats to my ambition to conquer the fashion world. Mr. Right, if he existed—or even Mr. Right Now—would just have to wait until I’d met my career goals. I’d once overheard my mother complaining to a friend, “It’s not that I want Lilith to be promiscuous or pregnant, by any means, but her attitude towards sex is a bit smug and retro.” Retro, I’d thought. Perfect. The young man’s eyes were deep-set and amber colored beneath incongruously heavy brows, and his blond hair, cut scruffily, fell in soft waves to his chin. Was he Jewish? This was a habit of mine, trying to guess who was and who wasn’t, although I never fully understood why it mattered so much to me, since I was very much a secular, non-believing Jew. Gaze unwavering, the young man moved his stool closer to mine. “What would you do,” he asked, leaning forward, “if you 4 The Last Jewish Virgin ran into a real vampire dressed like that?” His voice was soft, measured , and slightly provocative.“I’d ask for his autograph,” I said, “and sell it for a lot of money.” Smiling now, he moved his stool even closer. Although my heart beat sharply, I knew that I’d be able to resist my attraction to him, since I’d briefly been attracted to one or two guys before, and­­­ hadn’t acted upon those attractions, and they’d fizzled out quickly. He was sitting so close now that I could smell his after-shave lotion, surprisingly woodsy, pungent—and extremely appealing . “Do you know anything about...