The messiah came and y’all almost missed it.

I had two dates in one week. That’s right folks two. Both brought to you by the power of social networking. Some things should stay virtual.

Both sounded promising, one an Architect and the other an Artist.  At least we were leaving the SW engineer realm.  Talk about a giant step….

Date 1 The Architect

So the dude started to chat me up over FB. I could totally tell he was about as lively as Websters. But, I’ve been told of late that I am too picky and need to lose the list. So I figured, it’s a glass of wine how much can it hurt <see iron anvil fall on head>.

The dude shows up in a button down Oxford shirt (long sleeves) and tie, yes a tie, walking like he had the Statue of Liberty’s torch up his backside. You could just tell it’s been about 10 years since the dude has double over laughing.

Shame man, the mate would’ve been a cute if he would’ve smiled. I didn’t know designing buildings zaps your personality. I, apparently, have a lot to learn.

The short version is he was talking nuclear physics and I wanted to go the beach. I actually asked him if he wanted to meet on Frishman, but he doesn’t like the sand.

But hey I tried.

Date 2 The Artist

The Artist wouldn’t chat and he wouldn’t call. The silent type I guess. We exchanged a few messages. He asked if we could meet for lunch, in Atidim. Score, I don’t have to go anywhere, the mountain  was coming to me.

I figured in person he’d be more, um, communicative. So I come out of my office all dolled up  (I had meetings) and can’t figure out where the dude is. Nobody looked like his picture. Then out of my eyes I see him, cut-offs, dirty t-shirt, un-cut hair, flip-flops and unshaven. Really dude.

So we get coffee and sandwiches and sit down. “OK, speak” I’m thinking.  De man no speak. So I start asking him the usual questions and he gives one worded answers. This is so not good.

Finally I just ask him if he talks. Yes I embarrassed him, but even I don’t like doing all the talking. He replied that it’s hard for to think of something to say, and shoved his sandwich back in mouth.

So I faked a meeting, shook his hand, and made for the elevator.

Moral of the Story

Apparently I’m not to be pleased. I’m not happy with the tie and I’m not happy with the dirty shirt. Whatever happened to a happy medium.

Dear l-rd all I want this year is nice Adam Levine meets Adam Sandler meets Lior Ashkenazi meets Bill Gates’s accountant Jewish boy with a job and board. But I’m starting to fear that there may be a second coming before I can find one.

 

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