…because, these days, sometimes I can’t help but sound like the crazy old lady I’m doomed to become.
I have not willingly sought out a shadchan in years, but for some reason they’ve been calling me these days. The following conversation was transcribed about 10 minutes ago. I admit, I was cranky. I was overtired, had half a cupcake for supper and I was trying, unsuccessfully, to make sense of the fees on my 401k. Not really the best time to get a phone call that goes like this:
Him: Hi, I’m a shadchan. Can you hold on?
Me: Sure, I guess.
Him: Thanks. [disappears for a few minutes] Hello, thanks for holding.
Me: Yeah, no problem.
Him: So I got your information from another shadchan and I have a few questions. Are you still 26?
Me: No, I’m 27 these days.
Him: And what do you do?
Me: My Job.
Him: I see. So are you looking for a more modern guy?
Me: I don’t know what that means.
Him: I mean do you want someone who is more modern.
Me: I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. Can you please explain this to me? Like, what’s your name?
Him: My name is My Name. I’m trying to complete your profile so I can set you up.
Me: [In my head] I really don’t think that is going to happen, if you divide your guys into “more modern” and “less modern.” [out loud] I guess I’m looking for a YU type. Halachic Man, not yeshivish.
Him: Left wing YU or right wing?
Me: [sigh] I don’t know.
Him: Moderate, then.
Me: Sounds good. I’m all for moderate.
Him: And your parents? Are they the same as you?
Me: I… [to myself] Is this question objectively objectionable, or is it just me?
Him: I mean, are they to the left or to the right of you?
Me: [to myself] In family pictures, it’s one on either side. [aloud] I guess to the right?
Him: Hm. Okay. And you live OOT?
Me: Yes, I do.
Him: And your parents are there too?
Me: No, they’re IT.
Him: Oh, where IT?
Me: In Their Neighborhood.
Him: Is that Flatbush or Boro Park?
Me: Neither. Or either, if you prefer.
Him: I’ll put down Flatbush. And why aren’t you there?
Me: Because my job is here.
Him: Oh I see. And do you have relatives out in OOT?
Him: You board? Have an apartment?
Me: An apartment.
Him: And are you willing to relocate?
Me: No, not really. I like it here.
Him: [doubtfully] So I need to find a guy who is willing to relocate. Or maybe somebody local… Hm. I don’t know.
Me: [ticked off by the implication that no such people can be found] Tell you what, if he’s got a better job than me, I’ll consider moving.
Him: What’s your salary?
Him: Decent for a woman is not very much.
Me: Excuse me?
Him: Well you know, women get paid less out there.
Me: [snappishly] On average, when both the man and woman have the same job. But seeing as most of the last dozen guys I went out with were all unemployed or underemployed or employed in low-paying fields, it really seems unfair that they all expected me to relocate. Seriously. Even the 35-year-old living with his parents because he can’t afford his own rent. I think he planned to house us both in their basement or something.
Him: Well, okay. I’m glad I have your information. Don’t call me, I’ll call you.
Me: No fear. Thank you. Good night.
Him: Good night.
Sometimes, I think, you can gauge how likely you are to get a good match from a shadchan based on the sorts of questions they ask. I once had a conversation that went like this:
Him: [To wife] What do you think of NerdyGuy? I taught him in middle school. He’s single now, in Touro, studying accounting. Brilliant boy. So many ideas. He once brought in a kiddie pool for a carnival game and carried it all the way home on his head! Can you believe it?
Me: What’s wrong with that?
Me: [sigh] Sounds like a great idea.