When I was a teenager, my brother and I developed a Christmas tradition of having dinner with our in-town friends at whatever local restaurant. The way this came about is that we traditionally had a Christmas Eve dinner with my parents, and made the family circuit on Christmas Day. On the night of Christmas, everything was always so anti-climactic that we started this. We would go to cheap, sit-down places (we were kids with very little money) and just have a great time. On such a night, we went into Denny’s and found our table. Our server, a very nice immigrant student, came to our table.
“I hope you are all having a Merry Christmas,” he said in a hard accent. We assured him that we were.
My brother commented in his teenage surliness, “Do you ever get any Jews in here that get offended by that?”
“Oh, yes,” replied our server, “We have orange, apple, and grapefruit.”
I was certain, as I am to this day, that all of their juices were quite offended by Christmas.