If Time Square were any more awful than it already is, you’d find Virgil standing curbside, offering to give guided tours to hapless passers-by. The whole place is rests comfortably between Manhattan’s Scylla and Charybdis of “desperation” and “opportunism” through which bewildered and frightened tourists thread their way, horrified and enticed at the same time.
Basically, what I’m saying is that Time Square stinks on ice.
And yet, every once in a while, even a hellmouth like 42nd street can surprise you. Exhibit A: This struggling comic, attempting to drum up an audience for his next show. On the surface, it isn’t so much an aberration as it is standard Midtown fare – the cacophonous chorus of “hey, you like comedy?” assaulting your senses as you try your best to just get as far away from Time Square as possible. In this case, however, the comedian in question is the living embodiment of the “Jews and Comedy” overlap.
Did you catch that? This guy is a scion of not one, but two Hasidic royal families: The Novominskers and the Satmars. He’s also, as it turns out, not that great of a comedian. Still, as far as Jews heckling Jews goes, this is on the better end of the possible-outcome spectrum.