To Buy, or Not To Buy–That Is The Question

I’m at Deli Snack in Pompano Beach, Florida, with my friend Robert. I’ve just finished eating at a true New York-style deli, and I’m in a great mood.

As Robert and I stand in line waiting to pay the cashier, I spot a rack of black-and-green Deli Snack T-shirts.

“Robert, how much do you think they’re asking for those T-shirts?”

“I’ll bet they’re twenty-five bucks,” he says. “Inflation is killing us. You can’t buy a T-shirt for less than that.”

While running my fingers across the soft cotton, I study the design. On the front, where a pocket would normally be, are three poppy-seed bagels slathered with cream cheese, arranged in a triangle.

Then I turn the shirt around and read the back aloud:

VOTED #1 BEST DELI AND BAGELS IN SOUTH FLORIDA — 2026

“Robert, I’ve got to agree with those voters. This place makes the best overstuffed pastrami-on-rye sandwich in all of South Florida.”

“Agreed,” he says.

“And check out the artwork. A green bagel covered with palm trees, seashells, sea grass, and beach chairs. A city skyline frames the back of the bagel, and a wave curls through the hole in the center. Whoever designed this shirt deserves a creativity award. I’m loving it.”

“Bagelach, buy it.”

I laugh.

Then a thought quietly slips into my head.

Will this shirt identify me as a Jew? Like a Magen David hanging around my neck or a kippah on my head?

I nod to myself, realizing that all the antisemitic nonsense I’ve seen online has managed to worm its way into my thinking. I’ve lived in South Florida for more than sixty-one years, and I can recall only one antisemitic incident directed at me—and that involved a drunken fool.

So I buy the shirt.

As I hand over my credit card, I smile, knowing that I haven’t bought into the fear-mongering being peddled online.

I bought the T-shirt instead.

And I’m still in a very good mood.