For my first post on JDate, I was struggling with what to write and how to write it. I’m not a serial dater (a JDate “veteran”), but I’m not exactly Tim Tebow either. I’m a regular guy who enjoys the normal guy stuff in the fall (AKA I’m glued to the TV watching football from 9 am Saturday morning to 10 pm Sunday night), all the while keeping a steady balance on my computer between the large meat-filled pizzas I ordered from Papa Johns and checking the progress of my 2-3 fantasy leagues that take up much of my production during the 40-hour work week.
However, I’m not a normal guy in that I picked up a small habit that continues to show itself at moments of my occasional boredom with sports – I watch Sex and the City.
I don’t know what brings me to it. Is it the allure of one day being Mr. Big – a big, successful Wall Street financier living in the middle of New York City and having the world (and Carrie Bradshaw) at your fingertips? Or is it Carrie Bradshaw – a sex and relationships columnist who has really helped me to understand the difference between Jimmy Choo and Louis Vuitton?
While the show slightly exaggerates the world of dating, and focuses a little too much on high fashion for my taste (I do not think I’ve seen one of the women wear an actual t-shirt during an episode) I’ve managed to pick up life lessons from Carrie, a woman who while she needs material for her column (as I need material for my blog), struggles to maintain that need for stories with the idea of being in a relationship, as she moves through various men like Aidan, Jack, and Alexander but ultimately quests for that Heisman-Trophy-kind-of-a-man: Mr. Big. Since I’m not much of a math guy (there goes that Jewish stereotype), am I destined for the life of Carrie Bradshaw?
I was sitting at a dinner party the other night when word got around that I write about dating. Suddenly all of the hostess’ girlfriends wanted advice from me, who they now called the “Jewish Carrie Bradshaw.” Flattered, I felt an obligation to try and help these single women in their early 20’s. As an “older” woman (nearly 30… they probably considered me ancient), I had an obligation to impart some wisdom.
My first question: “are you on JDate?” elicited one unusual response: a guttural sound emanated from Danielle’s throat while her face distorted into a look of disgust. While the corners of her lips turned down with her upper lip peaked into a snarl, her eyes became slits and her jaw tensed up. She finally recovered from her bout with repulsion and simply said, “ew.” And I could tell she was starting to doubt her opinion of me as the cool, older sister-type.
As for me, I couldn’t help but start laughing. I remembered I used to think the same way when I was her age. But still I eventually did sign up for a JDate membership where I found dozens upon dozens of eligible bachelors and was happily surprised to know I was in good (and good-looking) company.
I told Danielle that I too had preconceived notions about JDate, but found it to be a place where ALL Jews go to look for their beshert. By signing up on JDate, there would be hundreds of thousands of single Jewish men from around the world literally at her fingertips. She could narrow them down at her behest, whether by area, age, or however her critical heart desires.
As the JDate conversation continued most of the other people at the dinner party, guys and gals alike, all proudly stated that they too were on JDate. Danielle quickly became the odd woman out and I could tell she was even excited to sign up. She had discovered that JDate is not the place where desperate people go but rather where the “cool” people are.
*all names have been changed