If I lower my expectations for the night, will I be less disappointed in the outcome?
Last week I went on a date with Rafi. My expectations for the night were high because Rafi and I have gone on a few dates and we have chemistry. Rafi has the same level of Jewishness as me, attractive, well traveled, intelligent, and driven. Rafi is basically everything I am looking for in a mate.
I met Rafi at his condo and we walked down Moody Street in Waltham to a great sushi restaurant. On the walk over, Rafi told me that he wasn't that hungry and he was going to eat light. The thought ran through my head, why are we going out to eat if you are not hungry? I ordered some seaweed soup and a sushi roll and Rafi ordered Miso Soup. The Miso soup did not come when my food came, so he canceled the order and he watched me eat. This was the first awkward moment of the night.
After I finished my dinner, we walked over to the movie theater, but arrived too late and the show was sold out. We decided to go back to his place and watch a Netflicks video. Rafi flipped the fire on, lit a candle and sat at the other end of the couch - our second awkward moment.
Next came the best part of the night. The movie ended up being a one and a half hour documentary on Al Jazeera during the Iraq War. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy learning about jihad, but not on a Saturday night date. We ended up talking about Middle East politics after the movie and he looked at me and said, "We have so much in common. I really enjoy being friends with you."
Am I missing something? I understand he may just not be into me, but if we are on the same level of Jewishness, intellect, life ambition and there is chemistry, why does he just want to be friends? However, now that Rafi and I are friends, can I be set up with his friends? Dating is all about networking, and his friend, cousin or co-worker might just be my beshert.
My expectations for the date were certainly high; however, now that Rafi and I are friends, I know exactly what to expect when we hang out. You can bet that “next time” won’t be on a Saturday night though.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Thursday, February 15, 2007
What's in a name?
Everything. When I go out with friends to a bar or social event that is not solely Jewish, I don’t have to wear a Megan David to state that I’m Jewish. My name, Esther Cohen, says it all. There are not many names that are more Jewish than mine, besides maybe my sister, Miriam Cohen. Names contain our identity. Cohen is the “Smith” of the Jewish world and my first name is biblical, which most of the time resembles a religious affiliation.
Last Saturday night, I was at a bar and started to chat with a guy next to me. I did not assume he was Jewish, though he was dark, short, stalky, and hairy—the usual Jewish characteristics. I introduced myself and he asked me if I was named after Queen Esther from Purim? I was a little taken a back and responded with an, “oh, so you're Jewish?" type of response. A few minutes into the conversation, I learned his name was Avi and we went on to speak for close to 20 minutes. As we parted ways, I gave Avi my card and he emailed me 2 days later. "Hi Queen Esther. It was great meeting you Saturday night. Hopefully I can see you before Purim.”
I have a date set up with Avi next week. Stay tuned.
Another time that my name benefited me was when I was traveling in London alone. After a long day of walking around the city I went to the Hilton Bar to have a glass of wine. I was chatting with some chaps and the bartender. When I went to pay for my drink the bartender asked if I was Jewish. I hesitated at first because I didn’t know his background, but I would never hide my religion, so I said yes. He smiles and asks me if I would join his family for Shabbat dinner the next night. All you have to do is smile and introduce yourself because you never know when you are going to meet your beshert.
Last Saturday night, I was at a bar and started to chat with a guy next to me. I did not assume he was Jewish, though he was dark, short, stalky, and hairy—the usual Jewish characteristics. I introduced myself and he asked me if I was named after Queen Esther from Purim? I was a little taken a back and responded with an, “oh, so you're Jewish?" type of response. A few minutes into the conversation, I learned his name was Avi and we went on to speak for close to 20 minutes. As we parted ways, I gave Avi my card and he emailed me 2 days later. "Hi Queen Esther. It was great meeting you Saturday night. Hopefully I can see you before Purim.”
I have a date set up with Avi next week. Stay tuned.
Another time that my name benefited me was when I was traveling in London alone. After a long day of walking around the city I went to the Hilton Bar to have a glass of wine. I was chatting with some chaps and the bartender. When I went to pay for my drink the bartender asked if I was Jewish. I hesitated at first because I didn’t know his background, but I would never hide my religion, so I said yes. He smiles and asks me if I would join his family for Shabbat dinner the next night. All you have to do is smile and introduce yourself because you never know when you are going to meet your beshert.
Thursday, February 8, 2007
A dangerous dinner date
For some reason food allergies seem to be a part of the Ashkenazi DNA. I was born with an allergy to all dairy products which means I will have an anaphylactic reaction to any dairy. Pills do not work and I carry my EpiPen. I was born with this allergy; I live a milkless life and always have.
Since many first dates involve food, the “dairy allergy” conversation has become a staple of my dating repertoire. On my first date with a potential last week, I gave the waitress the same shpeel I have been giving since I was able to talk ("I am allergic to all dairy, so please make sure this is not cooked in butter or has cream in it). Yes, I am difficult patron at restaurants but usually the chef is able to change some ingredients to accommodate my allergy. So the date with “Jake” is going well. He is smart, funny and interesting. After finishing our meal we go to a Jazz bar and I order a Key Lime Martini, never before an allergy hazard. Two sips into the drink, my throat and lips get very itchy. One look at the menu offers an immediate explanation: the Key Lime martini has Whip Cream in it! I tell Jake that I have to go to the bathroom to scratch my throat. Jake is quite amused and tells me he wants to hear my throat noise, which resembles a cat hocking up a fur ball, so in the middle of the nice Jazz bar, I start to scratch my throat. Jake laughs so I laugh about the situation. I drink a lot of water and eventually the itchiness decreases. Jake found this cute and decided to go home and try it out himself.
Maybe he is a keeper since he actually found my loud, hairball hacking throat scratch cute. Look, if I had my choice, I don’t think that I would expose my allergy or reveal my hocking fur ball noise on a first date. But if I’m stuck with it, maybe it’s better to have him know right off the bat that I’m different, and maybe it’s better for me to know that he’ll take me for it, for better or for worse.
Since many first dates involve food, the “dairy allergy” conversation has become a staple of my dating repertoire. On my first date with a potential last week, I gave the waitress the same shpeel I have been giving since I was able to talk ("I am allergic to all dairy, so please make sure this is not cooked in butter or has cream in it). Yes, I am difficult patron at restaurants but usually the chef is able to change some ingredients to accommodate my allergy. So the date with “Jake” is going well. He is smart, funny and interesting. After finishing our meal we go to a Jazz bar and I order a Key Lime Martini, never before an allergy hazard. Two sips into the drink, my throat and lips get very itchy. One look at the menu offers an immediate explanation: the Key Lime martini has Whip Cream in it! I tell Jake that I have to go to the bathroom to scratch my throat. Jake is quite amused and tells me he wants to hear my throat noise, which resembles a cat hocking up a fur ball, so in the middle of the nice Jazz bar, I start to scratch my throat. Jake laughs so I laugh about the situation. I drink a lot of water and eventually the itchiness decreases. Jake found this cute and decided to go home and try it out himself.
Maybe he is a keeper since he actually found my loud, hairball hacking throat scratch cute. Look, if I had my choice, I don’t think that I would expose my allergy or reveal my hocking fur ball noise on a first date. But if I’m stuck with it, maybe it’s better to have him know right off the bat that I’m different, and maybe it’s better for me to know that he’ll take me for it, for better or for worse.
Friday, February 2, 2007
Goldilox and the 3 bagels
You want to meet a nice Jewish boy. Your parents and grandparents want you to meet a nice Jewish boy. Question is: What kind of Jewish? The pool of single, eligible Jewish bachelors is small as it is but there is now even more of a selectivity with the “Jewishness” factor.
I grew up in a conservative household that kept Kosher and had a nice Shabbat dinner every Friday night. I attended a Jewish private day school, Jewish overnight camp and studied in Israel. My Jewish sense of self is strong and continually expanding. I need a mate that will compliment my background while learning and growing with me. My mate must have a specific level of ‘Jewishness’ so that our lifestyles will be compatible. Knowing this, I decided to experiment.
My first experiment was Sam, a modern orthodox 26 year old guy that lives in Brookline. I knew he would be able to teach and challenge me on many different cultural levels. We had great conversations and I actually found his kippa wearing sexy. I went on a few dates with Sam but overtime we were not able to compromise because he was more observant than me.
My next experiment was Nathaniel. The last time Nathaniel went to temple was his bar-mitzvah, 13 years ago. He loves lobster rolls and considers a cheeseburger with a glass of milk a staple in his diet. Even though Nathaniel was a great guy, I needed someone more observant in his Jewish lifestyle.
My third experiment was Jason who grew up with a similar background to me. He goes to temple twice a month, keeps kosher and enjoys keeping Jewish tradition. Though our levels of Judaism matched, he’s much too old for me.
Being in a relationship is all about compromise but how much should one compromise on their Jewish identity? If you meet someone whose Jewish identity means going to temple three times a year and eating Mazto Ball soup at the deli down the street, do you compromise knowing your Jewish identity is much stronger? I asked some married couples, and they said when it came to their level of Jewishness, there were no difficulties and they compromised. Hopefully, it is as easy as they say, but for now, does anyone want to grab a falafel at Rami’s?
I grew up in a conservative household that kept Kosher and had a nice Shabbat dinner every Friday night. I attended a Jewish private day school, Jewish overnight camp and studied in Israel. My Jewish sense of self is strong and continually expanding. I need a mate that will compliment my background while learning and growing with me. My mate must have a specific level of ‘Jewishness’ so that our lifestyles will be compatible. Knowing this, I decided to experiment.
My first experiment was Sam, a modern orthodox 26 year old guy that lives in Brookline. I knew he would be able to teach and challenge me on many different cultural levels. We had great conversations and I actually found his kippa wearing sexy. I went on a few dates with Sam but overtime we were not able to compromise because he was more observant than me.
My next experiment was Nathaniel. The last time Nathaniel went to temple was his bar-mitzvah, 13 years ago. He loves lobster rolls and considers a cheeseburger with a glass of milk a staple in his diet. Even though Nathaniel was a great guy, I needed someone more observant in his Jewish lifestyle.
My third experiment was Jason who grew up with a similar background to me. He goes to temple twice a month, keeps kosher and enjoys keeping Jewish tradition. Though our levels of Judaism matched, he’s much too old for me.
Being in a relationship is all about compromise but how much should one compromise on their Jewish identity? If you meet someone whose Jewish identity means going to temple three times a year and eating Mazto Ball soup at the deli down the street, do you compromise knowing your Jewish identity is much stronger? I asked some married couples, and they said when it came to their level of Jewishness, there were no difficulties and they compromised. Hopefully, it is as easy as they say, but for now, does anyone want to grab a falafel at Rami’s?
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