At first, when R' Noach Schwartzbergendrowitz picked up the
receiver and heard the friendly voice of R' Gershon
Tziperstein on the other end, he innocently thought that he
was again going to ask him to sign as guarantor for a short-
term dollar loan. But the request did not materialize.
After a series of routine courteous questions, there came
another series, and after that, another string of them, with
nary a mention about signing on a loan.
"So what's new by you?" asked Tziperstein after a few more
minutes of inane conversation. "What's doing? Tell me
something, what's happening? How are things? What's up? Is
everything O.K. by you?"
Something sounded fishy to Schwartzbergendrowitz. Something
was strange, he said to himself. Tziperstein never blabbed
foolishly like this, on and on, one prime reason being that
he couldn't afford to talk and talk endlessly.
"Tell me, Tzipke, what's happened to you? What are all these
questions about? Is everything alright by YOU?"
"Of course! Everything is absolutely fine. Why are you
asking?"
"Why am I asking? Because here we are, gabbing and gabbing
and you still haven't told me why you called!"
"Oh, for no particular reason at all. Why do you think I have
an ulterior purpose?"
"If you have no reason to call, so what's the reason that you
called? Isn't it a pity for the money?"
"That's the whole thing!" replied Tziperstein exuberantly.
"It isn't costing me a cent! I've just joined a special
service called `From seven to seven.' I can talk as much as I
like from seven p.m. till seven a.m. A great deal, don't you
think? It certainly pays, no?"
"I guess it pays. But how much can a person talk?"
"How much? Aha! I can talk to you all night until morning
without paying a cent. The more I talk, the more I gain! Tell
me, Nach'che, what did I want to tell you? Why are you so
quiet, there? Tell me, have you heard anything lately? What's
going on? What's new? What's up?"
"Nothing, really."
"You haven't heard any update on the situation?"
"What situation?"
"Err, the situation... Never mind. Oh, I just remembered.
Tell me, at what time do they close the ... what is it again?
Nu? What's it called? Oh, never mind. Oh, yes, I did want to
ask you. Tell me, what do you say — do you think that the
weather will be nice this weekend?"
"Why are you asking?"
"Oh, didn't I tell you? We're going away to a hotel for
Shabbos. They have this fantastic deal on now. A great
package deal, all inclusive. You can eat as much as you want,
all on the house. As much as you can eat! Just think of it!
Without adding a single cent. It's all included in the price.
If you like, you can even eat ten meals a day and no one will
say a thing! On the contrary, they keep on offering you this
and that, food, hot drinks, cold drinks, malt beer and
regular beer. And it's all for free! You know what? Two days
in a hotel — and you can eat enough for a whole week! No
exaggeration! As much as you can possibly put down. The more
you eat, the more you gain!"
"You can say that again. But what about your diet? I don't
understand you. How many times have you told me that you go
walking every evening because you've got to lose some weight?
What's going to be with all the kilos you've already lost?
You can gain them all back in one shot, no?"
"Only those?" retorts Tziperstein enthusiastically. "Besides
those, I can add on another two or three kilo like nothing!
Don't you understand what I'm telling you? Here you are in a
hotel and you can eat all day. And you know what? If you feel
like, they even serve a fleishige meal at twelve at
night! Let me tell you, no other hotel offers a deal as great
as that!"
"B-but it's not healthy!"
"Healthy, shmelthy. Who cares? And to talk for hours on the
phone is healthy? You can't grab the whole world in one
shot. Either you seize an opportunity, or you lose out. You
can't dance at all the chasunas at once. I'll have
enough time later to go back to my diet."
*
Friday morning at the hotel. It's five fifty-five.
Tziperstein is sleeping peacefully, having taken full
advantage of the hotel's offer of "It's All Included in the
Price," including a diner's delight of a meaty midnight meal.
Suddenly, the phone by his bedside rings. Tziperstein awakens
with a start. Who could be calling him so early in the
morning?
"Hello? Is that the Tzipersteins? Good morning. Please
receive a call," the desk clerk informs him with typical
hotel politeness.
"Hello? Who's there?" asks R' Gershon impatiently.
"Abba? Hello, Abba," answers a sweet voice. It's eight-year-
old Yanky Tziperstein.
"What's the matter, Yanky?" Tziperstein can hardly get the
words out of his mouth from fear. "Is everything alright?
Tell me, quickly."
"There's nothing to tell, Abba. Everything's fine. How are
things by you? How's the hotel? How's the food?"
"I don't understand, Yanky. Why are you calling so early in
the morning?"
"It's all because of your friend, Schwartzbergendrowitz. He
called last night and said that if we get up real early in
the morning and call the hotel, you'd be very happy, because
it doesn't cost us any money..."
Is this what Chazal had in mind when they said "A word for
a coin, silence for two"?
