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‘Rozenberg, goedemorgen.’
‘Ben je Joods?’
‘Pardon?’, zeg ik, ‘waarom vraagt u dat?’
‘Je heet toch Rozenberg?’
Dit wordt vast geen bestelling.
‘En?’, vraag ik.
‘Zijn ze vergeten je ouders op te ruimen?’
Dan hangt ie op.
Ik kijk naar het keuzemenu.
‘Onbekend nummer’, staat er.
Ik kijk naar de nagel van mijn linker wijsvinger.
Ik heb dat ding wat te kort afgeknipt. Dat ergert me al een paar dagen.

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