In Which I Buy a Weave From the Mossad

I didn't really want to admit to the following story, but I don't actually know most of you, so here goes.

When I lived in South Brooklyn, I often found myself surrounded by Orthodox Jews. Jewish law requires married women to cover their hair and many ladies accomplish that by wearing wigs that are much thicker and more beautiful than most people's natural hair. Once you know what to look for (jean skirt with a black shirt) it is really obvious, but they still look really good and I was jealous.

Those days are over. About a month ago I went to the mall and as I was coming out of J. Crew, a woman with a heavy accent accosted me and said, "Let me try something on your hair." I had to kill time before meeting a friend, so I sat down at her kiosk. Fifteen minutes later, I was magically wearing a headfull of perfectly curled, clip-on hair extensions. It was a masterpiece and I was speechless. I left that day with 10 lbs of fake hair attached to my head and a complimentary curling iron. I can't blame the girl's salemanship-my thin hair makes me vulnerable.

One of the perks of buying fake hair is that you can return to the kiosk whenever you want and they will style it for you. I went back a week later and was surprised to see that a man was the stylist. He had a very heavy accent that was nearly undecipherable and said, "You never think man do your hair in mall, right?" Accurate. Every time that I couldn't understand him, he said, "You like my sexy accent?" If someone who appeared to be a Spanish speaker walked by, he yelled, "Te gusta el pelo colocho?" If a black woman walked by, he evoked Joey Tribbiani and asked, "How you doin'?" But let me tell you, he was a Michelangelo with a curling iron.

Further conversation revealed that he was an Israeli, as was his coworker. Her English was better and she informed me that she had graduated from the M.I.T. of Israel, but enjoyed the stress-free lifestyle of styling weaves.

I know that I'm not the only person who has had a run-in with an Israeli kiosk worker. My mom said that the Dead Sea lotion left her hands silky for days.



Further investigation unearthed this little gem from the U.S. State Department. It warns Israelis about coming to the U.S. and illegally working at mall kiosks. I had no idea that it was so pervasive.