Here is the very memorable story of my recent first shidduch:

One thing led to another, and I was set up, via the internet, with him. We exchanged references and a few emails discussing life goals, where we presently were and want to go in our Yiddishkeit. All great stuff. I was super-excited at this prospect, but I wasn?t going to throw my heart and soul into this person I?d never met.

Of course, he didn?t like this. He wanted me to take myself off the market, for months if necessary, until he could meet me. (In case you hadn?t grasped it, this was mucho mucho long distance.) In my naivete, I consented. I consented when he demanded I do not socialize with the only other young, traditional jewish person in my city (who happened to be male). When I say ?not socialize?, I don?t mean ?no more movies? or ?nix on the bar-hopping??that wasn?t an issue. I was not to talk to any men at all.

Did I already mention I?m the only observant Jew between the ages of 10 and 45, with the exception of one male ?traditional? Jew, in my metropolitan area?

So, finally, he flies to meet me. First thing, he?s not ?slightly? overweight as he had so ?candidly? informed me. He?s almost spherical. Next, he?s not 5?8??again, as he had informed me, along with a big schpeil on how ?honesty is so important? to him. I was taller than him, and with my shoes I was only reaching 5?5? at best. Well, let?s not rule him out yet, I think. There are a lot of other things that seem sooooo super great about him.

We do the ?zoo date?, and follow with the ?coffee shop? chat. Overall, I wasn?t bowled over, but the conversation was very nice. I liked so many of the other things about him, that, even though I really wasn?t sure about whether I found him physically attractive, I figured it was too soon to tell, and maybe it was. When he offered to fly me to his city a couple weeks later, I said: ?sure?.

Then things went downhill:

My emotions were a schizophrenic ride of elation and anxiety, and they only got worse. The 2 days prior to my departure, I was physically getting sicker and sicker. After an emergency call to my Rebbetzin, I had regained a portion of my sanity. I realized, I was freaking out because I had NO feelings for this shidduch, and I simply had to remind myself that this second meeting was just for more research. So I prayed and prayed and prayed, said Tehillim until my face was blue, that I?d have some sense of clarity?that I?d feel something one way or the other.

Oh, and clarity did I get! I saw him waiting for me in the terminal, and I knew. Friday afternoon of the weekend visit, I knew. Well, I had a plan in advance. Since I really wanted to use the entire visit to decide, I figured I?d go on as planned and save a verdict for Sunday night at the earliest.

Now, I really didn?t need anymore reason other than that I was actually starting to feel repulsed by his looks. And I actually felt a little bad about it. I don?t think I?m really that picky, and usually the more I like someone?s personality, the more I?m attracted to him regardless of looks. It works the opposite way too. The more I dislike him, the more I am repulsed by his appearance.

Well, things just got worse.

Motzei Shabbos, we were taking a walk, in which he told me how his recent attempt with a ?friend? at opening an accounting business failed. His now-former business partner was caught by the federal government for some very serious financial violations. He personally had not done anything wrong, and the investigators concluded likewise. As the story unfolded though, I kept wondering, how could you not have been the least suspicious that at least something not very conducive to ?business success? was going on? On top of it, I work for the federal government; I don?t want any involvement in shady stuff. That could put my job in severe jeopardy?even if I only do get to work for a couple years before motherhood.

Ok, so then we start talking about his career, or lack thereof. He turned away from accounting, and has been a mashgiach for a year or so. Now, there?s nothing wrong with being a mashgiach, but he admitted he?d ?have to go back to accounting even though he really hates it? because it just doesn?t pay enough. He doesn?t have smicha, so it?s not like he could really climb is way up the mashgiach career ladder.

I?m thinking, great. I?m supposed to depend on someone else to earn a livelihood and be a provider when he hates his job, and hasn?t really done anything to help himself in this career path. It?s not like he?s young and sprightly either, where being at the ?no experience entry level? position really isn?t any cause for concern. He senses my concern, and assures me ?I promise you, that Hashem will always provide for me and my family.?

Well, as much as I love trusting Hashem, I?m also a big fan of that ?He helps those who help themselves? philosophy. So, I say, ?Well, that?s easy for a guy to say. He always gets to work.? He again does the ?Hashem will do everything? speech. I?m thinking, does this guy even want to work? Or is he expecting a handout?

Then, there?s his recurring theme of ?I can?t be as picky as someone from a 7th generation Chassidic family (, but I really wish I could be, and I know I?ll just have to settle in this transmigration.)? Ok, so I added the parenthetical bit. I?m not from a 7th generation Chassidic family either, but I?m at peace with that fact. I don?t gaze longingly into empty dreams of being someone I?m clearly not. Furthermore, if he wants the type of girl who comes from of 7th generation Chassidic family, then why doesn?t he try to go and get her?

Ok, next day, marathon touristy date. Amusement parks?two of them. For hours at park #1, he refuses to choose any attraction, and instead follows me around. So, I try discretely to get him to take the lead, because I?m getting really bored and really tired. I slow down and pause walking just for a brief moment, trying to let him pass me. He stops. We stand. I give up, and just go about my way again. By park #2, I?ve had it, try it again, and, this time, I tell him that I?m sick of picking everything because it?s really tiring. So finally, he starts picking things.

Now, for the only humorous part of the day: He picks this haunted hotel ride. I have no idea what it?s like, but I?m not really picky about rides, and I?ve never been here before, so I?ll go on just about anything. We wait in line, him telling me a much too graphic story about how he gets sick on rollercoasters. (Another repetitive theme is that he likes to give me memoirs of his gastrointestinal life. I repeatedly make not so enthused faces. He apologizes, and before I know it, I get another precious gem from his collection.) A father and his young daughter are in line behind us. They start talking about how scary-cool the ride is. I?m getting a little tense, but in that nice way which actually makes thriller rides oh so thrilling. My date grows quiet.

We start chatting with the father and daughter, and they start describing the ride just enough so you have a general idea of what you are getting into, but not so much that they ruin the surprise. Well, I come to gather that this is one of those multi-story free fall rides coupled with a creepy Twilight Zone story. My tense excitement grows. My date turns greener and greener. I recall his roller coaster story, but figure, hey, HE picked this ride out?not my responsibility. As we?re on the ride, I?m laughing hysterically and loving every moment. He?s pretty quiet. After exiting, we pass the photo kiosk, with photos taken prior to the first drop of each of the groups of riders. There I am, laughing and looking all jolly. There he is, about ready to yarf (an affectionate term my friends and I came up with in high school which only sort of sounds like what it is, and miraculously does not produce a corresponding visual). Now, with all the aforementioned information, this just hammered the last proverbial nail into the coffin of this shidduch. I LOVE rollercoasters. I?m not so into sky-diving or bungee jumping, but can I really live my life without a rollercoaster riding partner? (and why did he tell me he loves ?amusement parks? so much? What do you do if not ride rollercoasters and other stomach in your throat rides, anyways?)

I figure we should call it quits for the day, and that he?ll take me back to where I?m staying. I?ll pack, rest, and only have to see him once more when he drives me to the airport in the morning. B?H for security, and that he can?t come and stalk me until I board.

Oh no, not so!

He really wants to go to dinner. Too tired to disagree, I say ok, and figure it will be better than him sitting in the home where I?m staying re-asking me questions from earlier in the weekend.

While perusing the menu, I ask him what he?s thinking of ordering. I always do this when someone takes me out to eat for 2 reasons: 1) because I have this irrationally compulsive need to know what other people are ordering before I make my decision, and 2) to not be rude by ordering some huge expensive item while he eats a salad. Once I?m in the clear for the entire menu, I really decide I want an entr饠salad with salmon on it.

He asks me what I?m thinking about ordering, and I say, ?Maybe one of these entr饠salads.?

?No! Don?t get a salad; get a real meal,? he replies. The thing was: I really wanted a salad, and I?m not the girlie ?salad 24/7? type. I was hot, tired, and didn?t want some huge meal, but I didn?t want him to think I was a weird only salad girl, so I agree to look over the not-so-extensive menu again.

(At the time, I was temporarily living in a state with NO kosher restaurants. In fact, you have to drive at least 7 hours north to the next state to find one. So, really, the most novel food item is the simple hamburger. I can buy regular meat. I can buy plenty of fish in my city, but that elusive hamburger-on-a-bun is hard to come by!)

He asks me again what I want. I say, ?Well, this is going to sound a little goofy, but I never get to have a hamburger, and I think I really want that hamburger.?

He makes a distasteful face, ?No! Don?t get a hamburger! That?s not a real meal.?

I?m thinking, ?It?s a $14 dollar hamburger meal with 2 side dishes! Sounds real to me at that price! And why does he care so much what I order? He doesn?t have to eat it! I?m not calling him a big chazzer for wanting an appetizer, huge dinner, and dessert, all of which he is inhaling and quite audibly ingesting.?

Ready to strangle him, I start gritting my teeth while I?m diverting my patented death-ray look from his face into my menu. I settle on the lamb-chop dinner. Some tears rise to my eyes because I?m so exasperated. It?s clear I?m very hurt and upset that he can?t let me pick what I want to eat, but I?m playing it cool. I turn off my brain for about 15-20 minutes.

Now, overall, I can?t see how either one of us enjoyed this weekend. Nevertheless, over our dinners, he asks, ?Do you want to come down to visit me for Rosh Hashanah (in about 3 weeks)??

I didn?t want to have the ?if I have to spend another day with you, my brain will trickle out of my ears and my head will implode? talk yet?in the middle of the restaurant where we were very much on display. So I told him that, by Rosh Hashanah, I will be back in school, taking 3 classes, rushing to get research done and a Masters? thesis started, doing random work for my advisor necessary for my funding, preparing for the GRE and LSAT, as well as applying for jobs and Ph.D. programs. I usually work 6 day weeks, which will already be cut to average 5 day weeks during my first month back at school due to the holidays. Add in a trip, I lose 2 more days of work. I just can?t do it.

Well, he just doesn?t understand this, and very condescendingly goes on to try to enlighten me that ?It?s SO easy! Don?t you see?? After the 3rd time he says this, instead of hurling my steak-knife at him, I bite my tongue, and blandly and aloofly say, ?Well, it may be easy for you, but it?s not so easy for me.? He shuts up for a whole 5 seconds, utterly confused, and then goes ?Can I come visit you?? Needless to say, I still didn?t want to see him again, and I didn?t want to discuss it in the middle of dinner. I?m also still seething from his prior condescension, and I?m glaring at my plate just trying to keep my growing urge to throw things and to yell at him from getting the best of me. He finally notices my displeasure, and says ?Oh, I see.? I don?t really know what he saw. He probably saw my ?feeling pressured especially because I?m a girl so things are scarier for me.? Yes, he informed me of that epiphany of his on Saturday night. I assured him that being a girl had little to do with it. And, come to think of it, who was afraid of rollercoasters?

After stalking me as close to the airport security checkpoint the next morning as he could, I escaped into the maze of bag searches, shoe inspections and the like. While Mr. Security was checking my boarding pass and ID, he remarks ?Ah, very nice smile.? I felt a little guilty over rejoicing so much at my departure, but I let it pass. I needed some reason to be happy about missing my hamburger-on-a-bun for another few months.

Written By SecretAgentGirl.

Am here. Busy working, reading and playing silly online games.
I shall return.

I had just come to Jerusalem, to study for the year in a Yeshiva for BT’s, and of course to meet eligible shiduchim. Over Frumster (don’t snicker, you use it too) I met this nice girl. Her profile said she was an actress, studying in seminary for the year, a bachelors degree and she even had a nice picture on-line.

We wrote back and forth for a couple weeks and decided to meet. I opted to meet her by a coffee shop on Yaffo, since it was a location we both knew. I figured we’d go inside and sip some coffee, after all this was the coldest winter Israel had seen in 50 years, and I’m from Southern California. I don’t like the cold.

I get their 5 min early. She got their 30 min late. But that’s OK, I’m usually late for everything, so I blow it off. After all the inside of the coffee shop was heated. She looked NOTHING like her photo, which was apparently a professional head-shot from when she lived in NY. But she was still cute, no loss. Funny thing was, she brought a friend. I know I should have flown the first red flag allot sooner, but this was odd, especially since her friend didn’t leave.. or say much, just follow.

“How do you like me coat?” she asked. It was a fine coat, if you lived in Antarctica! The thing was 4 times her size, and I had no way of knowing if she consisted of more than a head with two orthopedic shoes sticking out the bottom.

I offered to sit down and have some coffee but she was rather emphatic on going for a walk in the snow, so romantic. Did I mention I’m from Southern California and the only warm weather clothing I own is a leather jacket? Did I also mention this is during the coldest winter in Israel in 50 years? So naturally I agreed…

We walked with her friend in town (she had a nice coat too) for about an hour and a half. During this time she filled me in on her details..

She’s not really in seminary, they just call it that. It’s a kiruv program and she’s been sorta-sorta Shomer Shabbat for the last 6 months, her last job was… wait for it… wait for it…

Playing a hooker on some nationally syndicated cop show! Yes Jackpot! I can see it now, it’s shabbos and I’m telling my kids “Hey kids, it’s mommy on TV!” And at this point I’m freezing. But for reasons that to this day I still can’t fathom I hadn’t said goodnight yet. After an hour and a half she notices that I’m shivering mercilessly (not that my 5+ suggestions “go in here” didn’t help to tip her off). Finally we went inside this cafe, I forget where it was but it was heated. I drop the coat and warm up under a portable heater. Basking in what, with my eyes closed, I imagine to be the sun on a hot summer day. I offered to take her coat (OK so maybe I was curious to see was actually attractive
underneath that dead lama). She actually sat there, not sweating at all, in the heated cafe not even loosening that coat!

We talked for another 30 min about how she wanted to do kiruv work. Why does every BT want to do kiruv work? After all it all looks so easy?!

Finally my self destructive urges abated, I decided I needed to extricate myself from the coat, it’s attached head, and her silent friend (didn’t I mention she was still there).

I was this girl’s (head’s) first frum date, and I didn’t know how to break it to her that I wanted to run for the door screaming. I admit it’s my fault for not just saying it, but I so prefer it when a woman thinks she turned me down, then no one feels rejected.

Plan A: Smoking.

At one point in my life I smoked. And any former smoker can tell you the urges never really go away. You just make a conscious decision not to smoke, ever. So I start explaining to her how much I loved cigarettes, the smoke curling up, the sensation of relief at the first puff…. she then produced a pack of cigarettes from within the magic coat.. and offered me one… Swing and a Miss! Strike 1.

Plan B: I want 26 children.

I think this is self explanatory. She was elated. What woman (or head in a coat) wouldn’t want to spend the rest of her days pregnant, nursing, or pregnant and nursing. Apparently this woman. Strike 2.

Plan C: I’m Chasidic!

Never in all my days will I dawn a striemle and a long coat! Well maybe if it’s Purim, and I’m already drunk out of my skull. But that’s not what I told her. She loved the idea. Forgot that fresh BT’s dig that kinda stuff. Strike 3.

I gave up. I figured I’d marry the woman anyway. There must be good money in playing TV hookers; I guess she could support me in a Chasidic kollel, where I could smoke while chasing my 26 kids.

Then we saw a sticker for Kahan Chai, one thing led to another and I mentioned that I’d like to live in Yesha one day. She flipped out. I stared, amazed as she lectured me for a good 15 min on how Palestinians are people too, and how awful right wingers like me are.

Silent-Tag-Along-Friend even managed to lay in a few accusations here and there.

The moral of the story? Just say no.

Written by TheLoneCabbage.

For various reasons (a story in itself) we spoke 4 or 5 times on the phone and then did not speak for about 2 weeks. We then played phone tag for a few weeks before I finally got hold of her to arrange a date.

She said 9.15. I said I would pick her up from her shuir (a bit too nice if you ask me). I arrived 10 minutes early and was listening to the football on the radio. Arsenal (English football / soccer team) were now losing 2-1 to some German side. One of the German goals came from an own goal and the other coming from a very questionable penalty. Is this bad omens for the night???

Anyway she turns up 20 minutes late and I had to suffer hearing Arsenal lose. At least she could have saved me the pain by coming on time. Her reason for being late was that the shuir that normally finishes at 9pm went on a bit and that she had actually left before it had finished and this was at 9.35pm. This night gets better and better. What else can go wrong? So I started my car and headed toward a hotel in town. One of the great things about London is that there is nothing open after about 10.30pm on a weeknight so the only real option is a hotel. (The guys at work think I go to a hotel just in case I get lucky!)

The question you are asking is does she look like Natalie …. not really… maybe… slightly… I mean very slightly. So I am driving along and we are chatting about a Rabbi who she heard over the weekend (as one does) and I was explaining one of the Rabbi?s Quotes (“I can talk to open minds but I can not talk to open minds”), when my car started steaming, I mean literally steam started coming from the bonnet. I stopped at a gas station as you call it and filled my car with water (of course I am an expert and knew exactly what was wrong NOT!) and guess what, yep, the car did not start after that! By now Natalie had gone completely silent.

Believe it or not this was the first time my car had broken down. I played with the water a bit more and almost burned myself, as boiling water was spat out of the radiator. I then went and filled the car with oil, not that I thought it would make any difference but hey I was trying and guess what? The car did not start. She asked what am I going to do? I said, “try again”. (I know a very profound, detailed well thought out answer) My main problem was that I was not a member of any roadside assistance groups and my housemate was playing football. So if my car would not start I would need to figure out another way back. Natalie was still just sitting there quietly. Was my car taking revenge for me? I think so. I thought the situation was very funny in fact very very funny (and had to control the smirk on my face) but was not going to show or tell her that. I then figured it was the battery and “Mr Prepared” here had jump leads in the back. I tried to get a few people to give me a jump-start and eventually some guy who spoke very little English said he would help. He pulled his car next to mine and started trying to find his battery UNDER HIS SEAT so that I could connect the jump leads. He did this for 10 minutes and I did not have to the heart to tell him to give up and I would ask someone else for help as he was trying really hard. He was really convinced the battery was under his seat. Maybe he left his brain there but he was doing a good job of trying to take the seat apart and sticking his hand under the seat to see if he could feel it. He could have been hoping for an electric shock, I know I was. I still thought the whole thing was very funny although I don?t think Natalie was too amused. She just sat there in the car silently, probably asking herself what she had done wrong. I peered in and smiled and I thought I got a glint of a smile back. Eventually some other guy pulled up besides me wanting to fill his car with water so asked him to help and he said fine. (He wet himself laughing when I told him this was my first date.) My car started straight away and I had a quick decision to make. Do I take her home, as my car may not start again once I park it by the hotel or shall I just go for it and take a chance. I decided to take her for a drink and take a chance but I think the damage was done. It is a shame the date was not jump-started as well.

After we found a table I went and got drinks. I took this opportunity to put a contingency plan into action (all unknown to Natalie) and left a message on my housemate?s phone saying to be on standby as I may need road side assistance or is it that she may need road side assistance? I am sure he laughed very hard as if I thought it was funny and it was happening to me then someone else would have thought it hysterical. I came back and set the drinks down (a bottle and a glass of coke each, she had diet) I thought I would do a nice thing and pour the diet coke into the glass for her. However I had second thoughts, as the way this night was going the drink would probably end up on her lap. As I sat down she said she needed the toilet.

15 minutes later she returns saying sorry she took so long but she found someone?s wallet and had to hand it in. You see she really is a good girl! The conversation was dry and it lasted about 45 minutes. The highlight was when some little kid came up to us and said he had just seen the Lion King and that it was ace. The joke is that I had better conversations with her on the phone but as one of my friends would say “whatever”. Furthermore I had spent more time away from her on this date than actually in her company. At about 11.15pm she said she needed an early night as she was ill the day before and had promised herself an early night. So that is what I am then, more like ill from this date! We went to the car and yep the car started straight away. Was someone trying to tell me something?? So I get to her place and park the car. She then offers me a nightcap. Only kidding I asked her what were her thoughts. She said she did not see it. I said I can not really tell, (me b eing no committal) but I don?t think we clicked. She then thanked me for my efforts and I thought any time NOT, although the look on her face sitting silently in my car thinking / praying my car will start made up for things. One thing for sure is that I gave her a ride she will not forget. The funny thing though, is my battery went dead because she was 20 minutes late and I was listening to the football in my car for over half an hour, My team lost and I was more upset about that then the date!

Written by Henry.