The resthome residents have a range of observance, from some people who go to services all the time, to others who can't wait to get shrimp and either sneak in take-out or can't wait until they can go out for dinner and order it.
(The kitchen keeps kosher, with separate meat and milk meals.)
Anyhow, if I'm working a Friday evening shift, I always try to wish people "Shabbat shalom" or "Good Shabbos," especially the more observant residents.
So, a few Fridays ago, I was at a table and wished the (older) (well-dressed) (Jewish) ladies "Good Shabbos" in turn, and then as an afterthought I wished the one retired psychiatrist it, as well.
As soon as I did that, he was like, "[My first name], why the f*ck did you say that? You're not a Jew and I barely am one."
The best part was that he just said that in a normal tone of voice, and there were special guests all around and everyone was all dressed up, and there was table clothes and everyone was waiting for the candles to be lit.
Later, too, after dinner, I was helping him to transfer back into his wheelchair, and he was like, "Good Shabbos, motherf*cker."
. . .
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