If you’re female, rich, and desperate to get married, there’s a gigolo in Midtown that wants to meet you. He thinks his problem might be that he’s started looking late in life. Some might question his methods. It actually reminds me of a Shabbos table discussion in which we discussed the possibility of my mother advertising her single daughter in front of YU wearing a sandwich board. It never panned out. Too bad. She might have made the Wall Street Journal, and then even more people would “know” about me, and it’s all about “being seen” and “getting out there” so people “know about you,” right?