Doesn't Do Phone Calls

This story still makes me kinda mad today. Besides common courtesy, it's just plain weird!

This shidduch was suggested by someone very near and dear so I trusted them. It just proves that my rule from the "Pinch-Penny" post isn't fool-proof.

The shadchan said the guy was a bit shy. On the day he told the shadchan (Let's call him "A") he wanted to go out I told "A" to give the guy my number so we could work the details out. A few minutes later "A" called me back and said the guy didn't want to talk on the phone and that this was the time he wanted to pick me up. "What do you mean he doesn't want to talk on the phone?! If he doesn't talk to women on the phone how can he date them?" I argued.
"Look, he's shy, blah blah blah" (insert your own creative excuses).
I said "I'm not going out with a guy who refuses to talk to me on the phone! That's ridiculous!"
And then came the usual pressure, only this time from all possible sides. He's a great guy, don't judge him, he's shy, whatever.
And because I was still a good, accomodating woman, I agreed begrudgingly.

The guy said maybe 10 words the whole date. I guess he was worried about running out of words on the phone and that's why he didn't want to talk.

Any bets on whether there was a second date?

Gemara Kop

 

 

This one's a quick story. The guy was nice, even good looking, but clearly not for me.
I decided to test him a bit for fun, totally harmless (really).
I started talking about my studies at Bar Ilan and I mentioned the two Gemara courses I was taking as part of the required לימודי יהדות. He did a small double-take, a thoughtful, quiet yet noticeable pause. "Really? You learned Gemara?" I think I managed to hide the gleeful smile of someone who has successfully (though not necessarily in a positive way) rocked someone else's world.

Sure enough, he spoke with the shadchan/it (can't remember who it was) who passed on to...I think my mother (who was none too pleased, having seen right through my "innocent" comment) told me that he mentioned something about me learning Gemara.

Hee-hee!

The Pinch-Penny

This story takes place before I was smart enough to demand that I will only agree to a shidduch suggestion if the shadchan knows me AND the guy well enough to make the suggestion.
I don't think I had even met the shadchan at this point.
The only thing I heard (besides the usual ben-torah, learner blah blah) was that he was a tad on the stingy side. I said, why would I want to go out with someone who the only thing to be said for him is that he's stingy? "Don't write him off right away" "Give him a chance" "You never know"...blah blah blah!


the person in this photo is completely unrelated to the story!

We spoke on the phone and he said we should meet at the King David Hotel lobby. I thought, hmm, that doesn't sound like a pinch penny to me.
I get there and look around. I see several potential candidates and one that I really hoped wasn't. But God decided to have fun with me that evening. The guy was physically unappealing to say the least (this blog, after all, is to fault their choices, decisions, and actions. Not things they can't change, so I'm not going to bad-mouth someone for their looks) and as he approached me I groaned inwardly. It was going to be a long, hot summer evening. Thank goodness we were in a fancy air-conditioned hotel lobby right?
Wrong!
"Want to go for a walk?" he asked. So much for the non-pinch penny. But by this point in my shidduch "career" I had developed a thick, calloused layer in which all sensitivity for the poor, shy, awkward, silent guys I dated was completely numbed. No more the accomodating eidel-meidel.
"No, not really. Let's stay here." He paused, not knowing what to say. He must have been counting on that walk. Finally he said something like "okay" and we sat down on the couches in the corner. After a few minutes he said "you sure you don't want to go for a walk?" I think I briefly contemplated accodmodating him but then thought better of it. I mean, we're both supposed to try and enjoy ourselves right? I don't enjoy walking. "nah" I replied. We stayed right where we were.
After about 20 minutes and waitress came over. I was hoping she was the answer to my prayers and would save me from what was fast turning into an insufferable evening. But she merely politely informed us that if we wanted to continue sitting on the couches we needed to order something. He looked at me and asked, again, "would you like to go for a walk?" Again I politely refused and ordered water for us.
I would have loved to know what went through his head then. Or, rather, after, when the waitress brought two big glass bottles of מי עדן.

I don't remember how I ended the evening (I'm sure I was the one who did us both the favor), I just remember leaving incredibly angry with myself for having caved to pressure to go on this date. I was so mad that I did some healthy retail therapy - I went and bought 3 books at the Book Fair down the street.

The One!

Picture this awkward scenario:
You're skyping with someone for 3 months. THREE MONTHS! So basically,
it's not a relationship with a person, but a computer screen. Sounds ideal right? So easy to come up with a lame excuse any time you need to "go".
אז זהו, שלא.

After 3 months, we actually meet in the same country, face to face. I see a person standing, waiting for me in Mamilla. I recognise him from the computer screen but my brain doesn't make the connection. I can't put together the computer screen image and the flesh-and-blood human being in front of me. After awkward "introductions" he asked if I wanted to walk to the Kotel.

Now for those of you who don't know me well, when I used to go on dates I would להשקיע. Makeup, nice outfit, heels etc. And this time was no exception. Now if you're wearing sensible footwear a walk to the kotel from Mamilla really isn't a big deal. But it was cold enough for boots and I was wearing nice ones with heels. I had long lost what little tact I possessed when I began dating so I said "Let's not". Then he played his ace. "But I'm never in the country..." How does one argue with that??? I didn't want it on my conscious that the one time a year he actually came to Israel, to see his parents, I deprived him of a visit to the kotel.

 

Fine. we walked there, we each did our business on our respective sides of the mechitza (I'm dying to know what he davened for then) and proceeded to walk back to Mamilla. On the rather silent way back he had the decency to buy me a freshly squeezed drink.

 

We get back to Mamilla and I decided to stand my ground and suggested we sit down to eat something (I wasn't suffering through this date without a meal that was for sure!). I felt irritated that things were going so badly. What do you say to someone you know everything about? Or at least everything you'd find out on a date. To his credit, he really did try. I could practically see the wheels turning in his head looking for topics of converstaion but what came out was question, answer, question answer.

 

I think the mutual relief was almost palpable when we decided to finish up for the day.

I don't know what my family was expecting when I came back but they definitely got their desired dose of drama. "I never want to see him again!" Those near and dear whose opinion I valued reminded me that I had never given any guy a full 3 months and it would be a major shame to let it go after one bad date.

So we decided to carry on. After all, if by the end of the week it didn't work out, he was going back to his life and me to mine and our paths would never cross. We decided that since this could potentially get more serious and since my parents were both in the country, our parents should meet. In the off chance a proposal was down the very-long road it wouldn't do for us to get engaged without the parents having met.

To my American readers, we all know what it means when the parents meet. Some call it a vort. But no matter how many times I explained the above logic to my parents, they couldn't grasp that this meeting was not to declare an engagement. The fact that I didn't even want to go down to see the guy when they came didn't convince them either.

It was awkward for me and him. We didn't want to be together just then but soon my father was ushering us off to "have a date".

 

As the title suggests, this relationship ended well. We are now happily married.

But this one will forever be my worst first date ever!

 

P.S. fear not loyal readers! Even though I had a happy ending I will keep the stories coming as I remmeber them.

Third Time's the...Charm?

For someone so painfully shy, he was painfully persistent.
I could tell he had depth, he was a gentleman, and he was nice. But after a few dates, our conversations remained superficial, long small-talk discussions. Nothing too deep or personal, at least on his part, whether about himself or in asking me questions.
I think I actually gave him a few weeks to open up, to relax. But when I saw that it was going to take much longer (if at all) for him to let his guard down, I thought long and hard before finally making the call one Friday afternoon. (side debate: is it better to break up on a friday and make the other person have to deal with it over the weekend or is it better during the week when work and other things can distract from the pain?)
The following week was Purim. My family and I went out for the seudah and when we came home there was a huge Mishloach Manot basket on the stoop with a stuffed kitten and the most heart-wrenching love letter, asking me to give him another chance. It ended with "I'm waiting for your call."
Now, it had not been easy deciding to end the relationship the first time, now I was forced to reconsider! After doing so, I decided to stick with my original decision. I had a vision of what life with someone so closed could be like and it didn't appeal to me. I called him and broke up with him AGAIN. In my defense, I did it as gently as possible each time!

Just so we're all on the same page, that was breakup #2. As the title suggests, the story does not end here.

A few days letter I answer the door and there he is. With a dozen red roses in his arms. Again asking me for another chance.
I was so stunned, felt so cornered, I said okay. WHAT WOULD YOU DO???? It's one thing to break a heart, it's another to kill a man while he's down!

I really did try hard to keep an open, blank mind that night. He really went all out. We went to a classical music concert, which although boring, was appreciated. We ended the evening with a horse and buggy ride (so sweet! But if I can be super mean here, I'd ditch the buggy and just take the horse). I don't remember if the drive home was akward or the usual light small-talk.

I had a decision to make. And for the THIRD time, I ended it. Sadly I don't remember how I did it that last time, but suffice it to say this time he got the message.

P.S. My sister called me a week later with a confession. Before confessing she made me promise not to be mad at her. NEVER FALL IN THAT TRAP! It was her opinion that I was unsure of my decision and needed some nudging. So after Purim and the love letter, she spoke with my father. Who spoke with him and encouraged him to try again.

The roses were the guy's idea.