You know you’re Jewish when you get caught completely unawares by endless Christmas Eve traffic. We sat in it for two hours mystified as we drove from Times Square back to Riverdale after lunching with some friends.

We came home to a sad, empty little fridge but we thought we could sit the rain out for a bit before heading out for groceries. Alas, we were wrong. All the supermarkets were closed by 6pm for Christmas Eve, all, of course, but the Riverdale Kosher Mart.

We were waiting at the checkout when an older African-American gent burst through the door gabbing on his cell phone. He looked harried. Thick, bushy white hair shot out of the sides of his head. He was chatting away on his cell phone.

“Do you have eggnog?” he asked the blond behind the checkout counter. His lips trembled from stress.

She nodded and nonchalantly pointed to an aisle.

What a world! Now, Christians have to depend on the Jews to get eggnog for Christmas Eve dinner? I thought.

The man came back to the checkout with two kinds of eggnog in tow and he balanced the cell phone precariously on his shoulder. He waited patiently on line…squished between the group of Jews who couldn’t find any other place to shop that night.