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Kvetch in the City - Chotskies vs J Date

Recently, my friend and I were talking about trying to downsize our lives and how hard it is to get rid of chotskies. Inanimate objects from which we derive so much joy.

From there the conversation turned to online dating and somehow ended up at cremation and dying. I’m not saying that’s a natural progression from dating to dying, I’m just making a note.

The whole online dating conversation started when I casually dropped the fact that I was considering going on J Date. While I’ve been more of a Goy Toy throughout my love life, I’ve lately started to reminisce and look fondly on the Jewish boys I fell in love with in High School. Also, having most recently heard of a few success stories on J date I thought, why not give it a try? Go full circle, back to my roots. While I am not a fan of online dating, I decided to dip my toe in the water, though not with a full on commitment with my pocketbook. So, I downloaded the free version, which gives you a glimpse of available Jewish men, or men who consider themselves culturally Jewish. (Is there any other way to be Jewish? Isn’t it all a cultural thing?)

Well, I have to say, from the photos alone, I felt I was on familiar ground. All the men seemed to look like a forty-year-later-version (not forty year virgin - though some of the profiles looked questionable) from my high school year book.

I actually started to think that maybe I could do this, while feeling like I would be making my mother proud. If I married a Jewish doctor, or lawyer, or really, any Jewish professional, maybe she could finally rest in peace. Lord knows she never understood the non-Jewish musicians I twice married. I know she tried, though I have to say, she was not exactly the best example of love relationships for me, having married three times, Jewish men and all, with serious, I mean serious, issues. I remember she once said to me, “Where do you find them?" (referring to the men I dated, and not in a good way). I quipped back, “Look who’s talking…you’ve not exactly been the best example” and we both laughed and went on eating our tuna sandwiches at the lunch counter where they used to put free pickles on a plate, on 5th Ave. and 33rd Street downstairs in the building where I was once employed designing hand bags.

Naturally, as online dating is set up to do, I decided to approach it as a menu of men. Let’s see…Lawyer…Great! Financially sound…Perfect! Good teeth…a must! Grown kids who don’t live at home…Okay! Likes dogs…me too! Enjoys luxury travel…you bet! Tall…that’ll work! Good looking for a man in his 60’s…I’d be flexible with that. I scrolled and scrolled…and 57 scrolls later…there he was! Rob from New Jersey. Bingo! I hit the little heart emoji…and wham…next day a message from, let’s see if he’s my dream come true, Jewish mensch.

Rob, from NJ, a good looking lawyer, grown children, with a doodle dog who enjoys all that NYC has to offer, travels the world for his job, Paris, London! I’m in! The messaging banter going back and forth for a few days was all good until the phone call. I forgot, while looking on the menu of men…that a sense of humor is a must! Oh no! And Rob, for all the wonderful things he might be, apparently had no sense of humor. I got the feeling right away, he certainly didn’t get mine.

So with a sense of disappointment and hopes momentarily dashed, for now, I called my friend back and we picked up our conversation. At least this time it didn’t end in cremation and dying, and more why I realized I may prefer to stick with inanimate objects a while longer.


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