Remember the forgetful Married Friend? Well soon after I posted about her, I received an email:
“I guess I forgot [these] two because of selective memory. I was blocking it out bec. it wasn’t a particularly pleasant experience.” Meaning, it’s not being married, it’s selective amnesia.
She detailed two more shadchan incidents for our edification.
One shadchan was in Cedarhurst. Getting there was a bit of a problem for someone located in Brooklyn and lacking a car, but my very determined Friend managed to get there anyway. They had a stiff introduction and the shadchan asked a few key questions about where Friend was from and where she was heading. The former was appalling (outside of the tristate area in a town mostly run by Chabad <shudder/>), the latter disappointing (she wasn’t entirely sure, but probably special ed and she wasn’t either sure but probably a long-term learner). The woman informed my friend that she only deals with a “certain caliber of girls,” and Friend definitely did not make the cut. Didn’t anyone tell this woman that single girls have delicate self-esteems? Oh wait—it’s women like that who cause the problem.
The second was a guy in Queens – not either very easy to get to, but Friend was very determined to get married, so off she went, living proof that nothing stands in the way of willpower. Of course, scheduling a time wasn’t a simple matter. Mr. Shadchan was a very busy man involved in many important things, and shidduchim was at the bottom of the heap. However, he made time, she showed up, and after a few questions he said, “I’m not going to have anyone for you. Go back home.”
Which reminds me of a different story of hers that I don’t think I’ve mentioned yet. The one where she trekked out to another city to meet with someone, answered all the difficult questions, and made herself out to be infinitely desirable. The woman flipped through her notebook and asked, “Would you date someone in the 27-32 age range?” (Friend was around 20.) Friend said “No.” Shadchan said, “Well I only deal with that crowd.” Friend did not punch Shadchan in the face and ask, “Why didn’t you tell me that before I traveled two hours and spent a third telling you my life story and will spend a fourth and fifth getting back?!” Which I think showed a considerable amount of self-control on the part of Friend. But we all know how great shidduchim is for character development. Imagine if everyone spoke to their spouses with the same openness and delicacy with which singles address their shadchanim.