Frum N' Flipping

Remind me never to listen to a cab driver again. Telling me I'm better of walking. Huh! I mean, I'm sure he meant well, but I'm freezing. This may be my favorite coat, but it's not very warm. Everywhere seems so much further in heels. I hope I won't be too tall in them. Why do all the men in the street have to be Arab? Aren’t there any Jews in Jerusalem? And why do they think I'll understand what they are saying to me in Arabic? I hope I'm not being stupid, walking here alone. Was that a whistle? Oh good the guard is waving me through. He's not making me open my bag. Lucky, I don't know how I'd get it closed again, if he did. It's not easy fitting a science book into an evening purse. I suppose I don't look very suspicious. Maybe he recognizes me from the last time I was here. It was only a week ago, after all. I'm a regular, you could say. Please, please, that can't be him. No. God, listen to this prayer at least, don't let...

"The surest way to tell the prostitute walking into a hotel is to look for the lady in the designer suit. Fact." From Belle Du Jour. Diary of a London Call girl. Now where does that leave us Shidduch Maidels? Better stick to the Marriott, girls, and not venture into the Ritz-Calrton, at least not in your best black suit. Don't want to give some gentlemen the wrong impression.