There are an inordinate number of young, single Jewish Orthodox
men and women who just can’t seem to find their match. Forget beshert[1],
we just want to find someone we can marry without ending up on Forensic Files or the Investigation
Discovery channel. Kidding aside, we really want to marry so that we can lead
fulfilled lives, so that we can serve Hashem[2]
with our households and our families. And instead, we go out on awful date after
awful date and complain about how all the men are looking for petite blondes
and women for successful surgeons. Let me just say, I am not picky. All you
have to do is look at my past dating record, and you would agree that I am far
from picky. My requirements are relatively basic: I am looking for a kind, frum[3]
man who has a job or is in school, who wants to marry and have a family. I
would prefer someone who does not shun the outside world and would not want to
drown my cats, parents, or siblings. Relatively simple, no?
And I am not under that impression that I am perfect. But I do
my best: I go to the gym several times a week, Daven daily, go to shul weekly,
support myself monetarily, and wear nice, sniut[4]
clothes. I try to exercise patience with all around me and be sensitive and
attentive to the needs of others. I have a good secular education, friends, and
a healthy relationship with my family.
One would think that I, and people like me, would have no
problem finding someone to whom they would happily devote the rest of their
lives. Ha. Lol. Smiley face.
Having joined an online dating website, I thought that it
might make meeting someone easier. Instead of an algorithm matching couples, or
searching through the local singles yourself, a shadchan[5]
searches through profiles for you. And, online, without opening up their
mouths, most of them seemed like reasonable men. We had decent conversations,
and then agreed to meet.
First, there was Dov[6],
from Brooklyn , all his life. He seemed
intelligent, willing to meet me in halfway in New Jersey , showed up in nice pants and a
button-down shirt, kippah[7]
on. He had been hesitant, over the phone, to agree to date someone who was
shomer negiah[8] (me),
but after some conversation, decided he was willing to try it out.
All went well, until the end, when I stood up. I was wearing
a dress that I always received compliments when I wore it, and killer heels. I
had, of course, dressed carefully for the date.
“You’re not that tall,” he said.
“No,” I said, “it’s my shoes.”
“Why are you wearing those shoes?”
“I don’t know,” I said. Shrugged.
“Are you trying to impress me?”
“No,” I said, “I like to look nice for work.”
“You like to look down on people,” he said. Ha. Lol. Smiley
face.
While he thought that was wildly amusing, I found it a bit,
well, rude. I don’t think it is appropriate to make fun of a girl on your first
date. So, that was that. I closed the match on the dating website. When he saw
this, he texted me, asking for another date, and apologized for not getting
back to me within 24 hours. I did not bother to clear up his confusion as to
why the match was ended.
Lesson for me: Well, as my mother told me, that is one I can
cross of my list. One date closer to finding my beshert. Lesson for others: Do
not insult your date, even if you think it’s hilarious.
To be continued...
The Snooty Shoes in Question
[1] Soul
mate
[2] G-d
[3] Keeps
the mitzvoth, or the Jewish laws, as described in the Torah, Talmud, and
instituted by the Rabbis.
[4] Modest,
which for women means covers knees, elbows, and collar bone.
[5] Matchmaker
[6] Not his
real name. Please do not go harassing any man named Dov.
[7] Sometimes
called a yarmulke—that little cap Jewish men wear.
