How to Recognize a Pants-Skirt Match: Tipoff #1

You’re told that you’re perfect for a guy, and then you’re given a list of qualifications you need, none of which describe you.


Woman in Black (WiB): I have a boy – I think he’d be perfect for Bad4!

Good4: Great! What’s he like?

WiB: He’s smart and funny.

Good4: That’s just what she needs. How old?

WiB: Thirty.

Good4: That’s in her range.

WiB: Perfect! Ask her if she’d be interested in a snorkel equipment manufacturer.

Good4: Sure, I’ll find out tonight.

WiB: The family is very well connected, if you know what I mean. She can dress well, right? And be very social with strangers?

Good4: We-ell, yes…

WiB:  Polite and diplomatic?

Good4: Um.

WiB:  Charming, outgoing?

Good4: So… why did you think this was perfect for Bad4?


No Escape

Here I am, vacationing in Miami, resting up before the marathon, hanging on the beach, building a sandcastle. Two other runners are all the way out (it’s awfully shallow for a long way, ‘round here) looking like they’re having fun. I wave and go join them. I paddle up, tasting sea salt for the first time in… oh gosh, loads of years. We float on our backs, exchanging vital stats: who are you, where are you from, what do you do, how far are you running, have you done this before?

When I finish answering their questions, runner A turns to runner B and says, “I’m thinking David, what do you think?”

Add “150 feet into the Atlantic” to the list of strange places I’ve been asked about shidduchim.
Can’t a girl ever get away from it all?