My Shooting Star

Okay, I know the narrative is rather familiar, but when you think of it, I’ve been out on so many dates that, statistically, I can’t avoid meeting the very same material every now and then.

This was a few years ago. I think two, maybe three years.
I went to visit a friend of mine who just got married, she made me stay for supper so her husband could have the chance to torture me with trying to convince me to go out with a guy from his yeshiva, though I already told them that I’m taking a break from shidduchim, that I think I need a bit of breathing space and that there’s no chance of me dating anyone in the near future.

His wife, spreading all those revolting “I’ve-been-married-for-two-days-and-the-world-loves-me-to-bits” smiles all over the kitchen, went to get the wedding album and pulled out this guy’s picture.
Okay, this guy was, seriously, state of the art. Perfect. The hell with breathing space, I say. It can wait.
A designer once told me that beautiful things come in beautiful packages. Fascinating outlook. I didn’t even bother to ask about him, rock worlds and do the little research thingy, it was like I’ve regressed to my early elementary school years, and my eyes were gleaming with the hope of things to come. (Heh, I’m making an “Oh-you-used-to-be-so-naive-and-idiot” face while writing this. I’m still an idiot though, can’t really say I’m above it.)

We set a date and agreed that he’ll come and pick me up from where I live.
I live with tons of girls, might I add.
Now, does anyone remember the scene from Notting Hill, where they leave his friend’s house and hear all the communal mad screams of shock and excitement from inside the house? It was just like that. He came to pick me up and there were girls EVERYWHERE and when I finally left and closed the door behind me, the only sound both of us could hear was those girls screaming like groupies in a rock concert. Yes. Girls can basically ruin your life. Or make you go deaf.

I was so embarrassed. Trying to do some damage-control, I used the same line from the movie to get myself out of it, “They always do that when I leave the house”. He smiled.
I smiled.

We sat down to have coffee at some hotel lobby, ordered our drinks and started chatting casually.
He wasn’t talkative, was quite apathetic actually, he had no opinions, was very quiet, sat there with a silly expression on his face, looked very disoriented and indifferent even to his disorientation. But that’s okay. He was still handsome so it took me quite a while to lose my patience with him. Um, 5 minutes actually, until he started picking his nose.
I ignored that and continued talking, hoping to salvage something out of this date.

I just got back from a long vacation out of the country, and I was telling him how on my night flight I had my face attached to the window and how I saw at least five or six shooting stars and how wonderful and magical it was, while he sat and looked at me with this handsome, expressionless face and a finger up his flawless, straight nose.
A beautifully manicured finger, fair play to him.

He still had that dumb look on his face, only now it got worse. This guy was practically radiating question marks left right and centre.
I couldn’t see what was wrong, but then he just went ahead and said, Wait, I dont get it, A shooting… – star? Shooting? Star? Shoot?


He didn’t know what a shooting star was. Never seen one. Never heard of the expression. How romantic.
I mean, you would think this guy was brought up by wolves or something.

There I launched onto a long and tiring astronomic explanation, not that I really know how it works, but I remember the basics from some book I once read. I properly felt like a rocket scientist next to this guy. Not a usual feeling, I am usually the explainee, to be honest, not the explainer.

I’m not sure he got all that I was saying, as he just sat there and shrugged stupidly while picking his nose and fixing his hair at the mirror wall behind me.

He was gorgeous, but I think that was when I had to face the agonising fact that we wouldnt be together forever.
Actually, we wouldnt be together at all. Ever.

He called a couple of times, said practically nothing, and was as indifferent as a newt when I said I can’t date him.

125 Responses to “My Shooting Star

  • the Snark
    May 10th, 2003 22:51


  • ys
    May 10th, 2003 23:22

    We all could use a life. I can’t belive that I check this site so frikkin often! Save Me!!
    Ahhem…. 102!!

  • d boy
    May 10th, 2003 23:42

    ys You made me feel so good!!

    103… Posts are nothing but a number!

  • She
    May 10th, 2003 23:49

    I am not a number! I’m a free man!

  • Astro
    May 11th, 2003 00:22

    Kisses forom 100.

  • Astro
    May 11th, 2003 00:23


  • AsIf
    May 11th, 2003 01:31

    It says something about judaism that a topic that dovid hamelech who has been dead and buried for the last 3000 years can inspire 103 posts (104!) yet She’s exlpoits on the dating scene can only manage a paltry 60 or so 🙂

  • d boy
    May 11th, 2003 08:06

    AsIf, The Dovid Hamelech arguement, is only supplemental to the article. The general argument is whether we are able to “judge a book by its cover”.
    Now go learn some Gemorah and you will see the similar types of arguments to what we all contribute to here.

  • reader/writer
    May 11th, 2003 08:28

    Congradulations Asif,
    Everyone else… I’m soo sorry it came to this. I’ll try to excersize the self-control/restraint thing in the future. Oh well what can I say… 108!

  • reader
    May 11th, 2003 08:30

    Actually the last one was 109

  • UNluckyNlove
    May 11th, 2003 09:33

    MONTY PYTHON ROCKS!!! (though I didn’t like the movie “Brazil” very much–at least the 2nd half, the first half was funny.) I agree with whoever said that the Holy grail is funnier.

    Best sketch in that movie: Bridge keeper: “What is you name?”
    Sir Galahad: Sir Galahad
    BK: “What is your quest?”
    SG: to search for the holy grail
    BK: “What is your favorite color?
    SG: Blue, no orange…AHHHH!

    🙂 though I’m not sure it was sir galahad, I haven’t seen it in forever.

    “I bring you these 15… no, 10. 10 commandments…The inquisition, what a show”– History of the World Part 1

    also, something you might have missed in the movie:
    Oedipus: give to Oedipus, give to Oedipus…Hey Josephus!
    Josephus: Hey Mother f—er, what’s happening?

    i.e. He’s OEDIPUS!!!!!! (pardon the lang., but it’s necessary for the joke!)

    LOL. Be back soon, it’s finals time!:( Please wish me luck!!!

  • AsIf
    May 11th, 2003 16:54

    MB I know how you feel, its finals for me soon too (but im actually relaxing (relatively speaking) since I did all the hard work already. Good Luck!

    DBoy – truthfully I thought the whole discussion was a moot point and I stopped reading after the third post but it was just a joke, it was more in praise of judaism that they can keep people interested in such a topic for so long, that’s it.

  • A Business Oriented Approach
    May 11th, 2003 23:56

    She, happy Mama’s Day!
    Wishing you to get married and become a mama by next Mama’s day! Ie I’m giving you 3 months to get married.

  • She
    May 12th, 2003 08:29

    er.. Omein?

  • USB Port
    May 12th, 2003 23:20

    How do we get back to the topic of our discussion. Why was Dovid wrong to do what he did?

  • She
    May 13th, 2003 00:55

    I dare you. I double dare you 🙂

  • USB Port
    May 13th, 2003 01:41

    I’ve got little to lose, really. What’s the worse that can happen you’ll post my ISP. The whole world will know who I am. Eternal shame. My friends and mentors will shun me. I’ll be the ridicule of New York. I will have go into hiding, or move to Alaska. Not that bad. Deer-meat tastes good.

  • reader
    May 13th, 2003 04:19

    mmm… dear meat…

  • jaki
    May 13th, 2003 08:12

    Its amazing how most of the people who write on this site are suffering from the same mental illness.

  • d boy
    May 13th, 2003 09:44

    USB Port you know it yourself you don’t need this site to prove that you the ridicule of NYC

  • USB port
    May 13th, 2003 14:29

    d boy you hurt my feelings.

  • s
    May 13th, 2003 23:09

    I am sorry, can we backtrack a bit?
    Was your date actually picking his nose and that was not creative embelishment?

    Not that I doubt story’s truth, but I am horrified on your behalf!

    Please, in future, ask him if he needs a tissue.

  • MiddleAgedBoy
    May 14th, 2003 01:18

    I pick my nose, teeth, and ears; and if somebody would offer me a tissue I would politely refuse. Thank you very much

  • reader
    May 14th, 2003 03:34

    Oh, that’s just disgusting…

  • MiddleAgedBoy
    May 14th, 2003 04:38

    Contrariswise, that’s the essence of etiquete: thank you and please.