I stopped at House of Blues to pick up my amp after. After I went in and got a drink at the bar, a young guy with shaggy long black hair and a thick black beard shot me a “look” from behind his thick black rimed glasses, and then punched one of his friend’s in the arm aggressively. I moved closer to the stage to hear the bass-less punk trio, leaving him behind me. Here is the conversation we had:
G: Yo, bruza.
Finally he taps me on the shoulder and asks…
G: Where are you from? Are you Jewish people?
A: (sigh) Well, my father is Jewish but I don’t practice that religion.
G: What’s your religion?
A: I was raised in a (Seventh Day) Christian church.
Pointing at his “Mighty Quinn Recordings” T-shirt I countered with…
A: What’s your religion? Are you Rastafarian?
G: No, man. I’m just a hippy!
A: Oh, ok. So your religion is getting high!?
G: Yeah, that’s right.
A: Yeah, that used to be my religion. Nowadays, I guess my religion is making money.
G: Oh, like Jewish people. That’s why I said you must be Jewish.
A: You can go anywhere in the world and find people making money. Japanese, British, Malays, Chinese, Saudis, Greeks, Rupert Murdoch — not just Jews. Anyway, my Dad is Jewish and he’s not rich. He’s got no business ambitions at all.
I walked away, finished my drink and said goodbye to the owner who told me I could leave my amp indefinitely. That’s the only reason I was glad the previous conversation didn’t escalate.