A Kosher Dating Odyssey: One Former Texas Baptist's Quest for a Naughty & Nice Jewish Girl by van Wallach Page A

curious to hear more.
    To my surprise, Vendetta sent a short note asking how things were going. I replied, in part,
     
    I’m sorry for the divorce situation. That may sound trite, but I feel for you and the kids. Nobody should have to face that kind of meanness, and I don’t even know anything about it. I can tell the enormous psychic strain it puts on you, the sheer amount of energy it takes. It’s bad enough that marriages end; does the aftermath have to go on and on?
     
    We swapped a few more messages and then I never heard from her again, although I made a few attempts to connect. Her silence told me everything I needed to know. I turned my attention back to the Swan and others, the sources of so much functional value. The flow chart of yearning branched in one direction rather than the other.
    And Vendetta? She stayed in my mind, as I wondered how her life evolved after our brief flicker of contact. I wish her well. She has her own stories to tell. I’m not one of them.
    Portions of “His Perspective: The Functional Value of Heartache” were originally published in JMag, the online magazine for JDate.com.

Chapter 7

Speed Dating, or, The Shock of the Real
    Dating sites often offer real-world events where people can actually meet and get acquainted. Some were “official” events; others were organized by site members on their own. In both cases, the experience was very different from grazing among the profiles. I was forced to interact in larger groups where I often felt out of place, out of my solitary element.
    I wilted in loud, crowded, alcohol-driven venues where men were challenged to blast into a tight circle of women friends huddling together like a rugby scrum. Typically, the noise, the crowds, and the lack of information about the women inhibited me. I felt adrift and out of my element, just one more Jewish guy with a goatee trying to shout above the roar.
    I hoped for a better experience in the more structured environment of speed dating, through a version organized by JDate’s parent company, called HurryDate. I had never done anything like it. Compared to the micromanaging possible online—backstory provided by profiles, mood created by pictures, snappy rejoinders composed at the keyboard rather than on the spot—HurryDate promised to close the digital distance in real time, real space but with a chance to focus on one woman at a time. I wouldn’t have to sidle up to a woman held in a tight little posse of her female friends, nor try to force myself into the line of tycoons (so I always imagined) angling for the proverbial Hot Jewish Chick. Participants had four minutes in the mixing bowl to figure that out, face to face.
    I thought carefully about presentation. The women would see the 3-D me, not pictures. A slide show versus live theater. Deciding to go upscale, I wore a sports coat, a blue button-down shirt and a confidence-inspiring Jerry Garcia tie. The ensemble said, “I pay attention. You’re worth a guy who dresses nicely for our first encounter.”
    I walked into the Falucka bar/restaurant on Bleecker Street in time for the half-hour of socializing. Scanning the group to check out the women—and the men—I signed in and settled into an open space at the bar to talk to a man who, like me, lived in the suburbs. He was there with a friend. They must not have liked the pickings, because they left before the event started.
    The organizers gave the stragglers a few extra minutes; then they explained the mechanics: women stay seated, men move on every four minutes to the next table for a new date whenever a whistle was blown.
    The first date started the HurryDate experience nicely. The woman was intelligent, educated, attractive. Information about her children suggested she was probably older than me, but I wasn’t going to let that be a hindrance. I marked her “yes” on my score sheet, which offered only yes-and-no choices. HurryDate left no room for ambiguity.
    As I moved through