Tipsy in Tel Aviv Part 2

I scan the room carefully. After a few minutes go by, I notice a man rolling a joint on a table in the corner. It’s not the entrance to “the green room,” but talking with him at least seems like a good place to start. I make my way toward him and broach the subject. But sadly, his English is limited. He signs for me to hand him my phone. I oblige. Once in his hand, he goes into my settings, adds a Hebrew keyboard to my phone and begins typing into my notepad. Once we’ve gotten this far, things should be smooth sailing. But we’re both drunk enough that our challenges persist. Apple Pay is a godsend in Israel — but in my drunken stupor I’ve forgotten how to use it to pay individuals. And our differing area codes only further complicate the situation. <a href="https://medium.com/thought-thinkers/tipsy-in-tel-aviv-part-2-8f69bb74bc24">Learn More</a>