I know I’ve written numerous posts on my bad Jdate experiences, but I’ve had some good ones as well.
I’ve met many eligible Bochers who were balbatish (respectable, well mannered), and met the criteria of an NJB, but something just wasn’t there.
That ‘something’ was attraction, chemistry, a spark.
And that for me is a deal breaker.
A Bocher once told me at the beginning of a first date that within 5 minutes he would know whether or not he was going to hit it off with that person. I nodded my head, thinking ‘that’s not giving someone much of a chance,’ but have come to realize that in guy code he meant, ‘I know within 5 minutes if I want to get into this girl’s pants,’ which for many boys is all that matters, and for many women it is the same.
Even though we only went on two dates and he turned out to be a mamzer (bastard), his words have continuously followed me on subsequent Jdates, especially after the last date with Bocher # 5 ½
(the last bocher technically didn’t count- we never actually met.)
Bocher # 5 ½
His profile pictures portrayed him as a handsome blue eyed light brown haired man with a knack for outdoors sports, including surfing, rock-wall climbing and snow-skiing.
I love athletic men, and at 30, I presumed that he was looking for more than a one night stand.
He was looking for that NJG.
I could be that NJG.
So, I followed my usual routine, hot-list, wait for him to message me, and then reply if the message is witty. He took the bait and did all of the above, but after the third message he still hadn’t asked for my number.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m a writer, I love writing about myself, but I’m doing enough of that in my thesis, and thus feel that my three message minimum is validated.
I took measures into my own hands and wrote him, ‘I don’t do this often, but hey how about we meet in person, here’s my number.’
He replied with an ‘I’m flattered. I will definitely give you a call tomorrow.’
He didn’t call; instead he texted, the recent go-to way for guys to communicate with girls. I assume that men feel it’s easier to text than have to actually hear a potential date’s voice on the telephone.
'What if the conversation is bad, or what if, like in my experience with the Vietnamese Buddhist, you can’t understand the humorous banter that simply sounds like ‘bla, bla, bla, followed by a little more of the bla-ness.’
Truthfully, the first call might potentially forecast the result of the first date. Bad first convo, bad first date, or it could mean nothing and the two daters will get along gaily; have kids, and a fashionable mezuzah outside their door.
I understand the hesitation, but texting just leads to more typing, which gets nothing accomplished, and thus I like my men to get some balls, dial my number, and realize that conversing isn’t such a scary situation.
Eventually, after texting back and forth throughout the day, he did call and I missed it and when I did call back he was out for the evening, so the chat would have to wait until the next evening because he was going snow skiing with some friends that next day.
As he had promised, he did call and we talked for about 30 minutes, which is good considering it was a first conversation. He asked about my schedule for the week and I told him that I wasn’t sure how busy I would be, but how about he ‘ring me Wednesday and we can make plans.’
We made plans to get sushi that following evening at Endo Sushi in Arlington.
I was excited. On the telephone he sounded cute, rugged, manly and I looked forward to our face to face encounter.
Thursday night rolled around and I arrived at the restaurant a tad late due to parking. Luckily he too had parking issues; therefore giving me time to prep; i.e. use the restroom, apply another coat of mascara and a coat of deep red lip gloss (sexy but not slutty).
Finally, he walked in and my heart dropped ever so slightly.
His pictures were a bit of a fraud.
Yes, he had blue eyes, and brown hair, but when he opened his mouth to smile a wide gap between his front teeth was revealed.
He’s not Lauren Hutton or Elijah Wood.
I don’t think it’s his signature.
I don’t think he had braces.
Although his pictures were a bit of a lie, (in not one was he sporting an open mouthed smile) he was dressed nicely in a black buttoned down, jeans, and loafers, very Kenneth Cole.
His wardrobe implied that he’d put thought into what he was going to wear, which is a plus considering many men have arrived on a date in a Hanes t-shirt, jeans and sneakers.
That’s fine if we’re going on a hike, or to see a movie, but on a first date this maidel likes her men to dress accordingly, no t-shirts allowed.
He looked nice, but I wasn’t sure of if that ‘nice’ was for me.
In the past, when I’ve concluded that we might not hit it off I’ve compensated by getting plastered.
But, I’ve wised up and realized that sometimes the wine does less good and more bad, thus making these men appear more attractive.
Plus, many guys don’t like girls who get farshnoshket(loaded) on the first date-that’s trashy and a major turn off for some.
Others, love it because it means they have a better chance of scoring in the sack, and hence order bottle(s) of wine.
We sat down and began talking about our days, our work, mine now as an administrative assistant at a Synagogue( how Jewish of me), his as a business psychologist. He explained his job to me. I still don’t understand, but I told him it was fascinating.
Men like the word ‘fascinating,’ it’s like the word ‘ferarri,’ sophisticated, magical, the sound of the word rolls off your tongue.
We each ordered a glass of Merlot, and I sipped mine slowly, knowing that if I chugged too fast, I’d be tipsy, and as mentioned before, that’s no longer my ‘go-to.’
As we chatted I thought about the other Bocher’s ‘5 minute rule’ and realized that yes, this blue eyed boy was intelligent and easy to talk too. Yes, the conversation flowed smoothly.
Yes, unfortunately, I saw him as just a chavver (friend).
For me, he hadn’t passed the 5 minute physical attraction rule.
I enjoyed talking to him, but had no desire to kiss him, none.
In the past, with every man I’ve ever dated there has been an instant ‘I want to kiss him vibe.’
There was no vibe, no desire to play tonsil hockey now or maybe even in the future.
As he walked me to my car I gave him a hug and he said we should ‘do this again.’
I agreed, because along with taking the initiative in 2010 I’d decided to give nice guys a chance.
That next day I told my sister the dilemma, and she said, ‘give him a chance, he seems like a good guy.’
‘I said I’d go on a 2nd date.’
‘Wow, that’s so kind of you,’ she said sarcastically.
I thought that’s what she wanted, for me to give men a second chance, but she said it as if I thought I was doing him a favor, when in fact, I was just trying to please everyone else and maybe prove my initial ‘vibe’ need as a thing of the past.
But, I’m not sure I can get past the lack of physical attraction.
Is it something that can grow in time, like a Chia pet or a group of sea monkeys?
I guess I’d have to find out.
I’d already broken one 2010 resolution and wasn’t intent on breaking yet another.