"Jew to Jew."

No, really - Jew to Jew. That's what he said. No, I didn't need to squeegee my ears. Clear as day.

As if calling in a chit. Or slipping in a secret handshake.

A chit I wasn't sure I owed, and a handshake I wasn't certain I knew.

This request appeared at the end of a business meeting, nearly a decade ago. Everyone else had left the room, so it was just me and him.

Him: a Jew, obviously, for sure.
And me, who also happens to be Jewish.

So should I be surprised? Why not white guy to white guy? Or top 1% to top 1%?

Just Jew to Jew.

His unsaid suggestion: we're brothers of sorts, bonded by some gloopy mixture of history and blood. Co-conspirators who should help each other because of our religious background. And, well - Jew to Jew, because it's business. And what more are Jews than excellent business people?

AnyJew (that's right), this Jew had nothing on John from the Pendry.

In NYC, at the swanky Pendry Hotel in Hudson Yards, there's John at the front desk. John is Asian, but that doesn't need to mean anything - unless you want it to. I’ve been to the Pendry more than a few times, and eventually - once recognition had set in - John welcomes me not with a hello but with a Shalom.

Indeed, "Shalom," he says, and I look over my shoulder thinking maybe a Hasidic Jew (with payot sidecurls) or a rabbi had snuck up behind me.

A few visits later - during what must have been a High Holiday - John tips his cap with, Gmar Chatima Tova, a phrase I only partially understand because, maybe (I guess) I'm a bad Jew. I nod and mumble something I hope passes for acceptance, but really all I can think about was whether it's kosher (that's right, kosher), to welcome a hotel guest by their undisclosed religious affiliation?

I find this most curious so bring it up with coworkers and acquaintances.

It becomes an ice breaker of sorts, like when conversation lulls at dinner parties,

"So, there's this guy, John. He's Asian. But, well, not like that matters, but I guess, well, does anyone know how many Asian Jews there are in the world?"

I assume John isn’t Mizrahi, because that would be rare indeed - rare enough that most censuses can’t say how many exist.

Does John welcome all guests this way? Does he say As‑salāmu ʿalaykum to Muslims and Waheguru Ji Ka Khalsa, Waheguru Ji Ki Fateh to Sikhs?

This eats away at me.

It's a riddle.

Or maybe it's just a kibbitz (in the kibbutz, if you will).

Somewhere down the road Sarah arrives at the Pendry, and John welcomes her with a Shalom as well - so she (she who isn't actually Jewish) asks the question we've all been wondering.

"Well, you're married to Mr. Balter," John offers authentically, "who is Jewish and I have many Jewish clients here and I want to make sure they feel welcome."

You should know that I don't wear a star of David. I don't tuck a Torah under my arm. I don't wear T-shirts with menorahs on them with the tagline 'Running on Oil and Miracles Since Year One.'

I don't jingle gold coins when I walk or spin dreidels in the lobby of hotels.

But I must look Jewish, because Jews certainly must have a look.

And my looks must certainly be pronounced - at least enough for other Jews (or for John the Asian) to see them.

Later, in the Pendry bathroom mirror, I study myself.

I see my nose (not too hooked) and the hunch of my shoulders. I lean closer and say quietly:

###Shalom.

As if welcoming myself.

##Jew to Jew.