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About Rishon LeZion

Gets messy, tho—clients haggelin’ prices, me yellin’, “This ain’t a flea market!” She’s cool as ice, handlin’ ‘em. Personal quirk? I hum the movie score when stressed—duh-duh-duh-duh, epic! Exaggeratin’ now—she’s got eyes like a hawk, spots a tailgater miles off. Saved me arse once—cop car creepin’, she goes, “Floor it, shiny and chrome!” We peeled out, laughin’ like lunatics.

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But then, the universe decides to remind me. I turn around, and boom! I bump into this guy, and my pomegranate goes flying. It explodes on the ground like a mini fruit bomb. Juice everywhere! I’m standing there, shocked, and the guy’s like, “My bad, man.” I’m like, “Yeah, my bad too. I just lost my snack.”

Growing educators in the Garden State