Says my source: "Surely some man somewhere will meet her high standards, but as of now, her b’shert is still missing in action."
Joe emails: "Why don’t you offer up your soul to Orit. You won’t text message her but maybe bring her flowers on the first date and read her poetry."
Women don’t respect you when you bring them flowers too early.
I once made that mistake. After our first night together (after a month of dating), I sent this hot chick flowers with a card that read "I love you."
She brushed me off. She said, "It’s too soon to be talking about love."
You offered up your body for me to ravage and you’re telling me it’s too soon to talk about love?
That was the last time I sent her flowers and we were together another year.
Fred emails: "I think the only man who’ll be up to par for Orit is the Moshiach. Maybe you can claim the title and conquer her?"
An acquaintance of mine brought Orit to the hovel on Tishu B’Av 2001. She sat in the very chair I’m sitting in now. I stared at her for three hours.
Orit writes in the latest issue:
Recently, I met a guy at a friend’s party. He had blond, spiky hair and an intellectual’s goatee. He was a European student in Israel for the year working on his master’s degree researching Palestinian security. While I realized I couldn’t count on him for a serious romantic prospect, I gave him my business card. The next day he sent me a text message on my cell: "If you’re ever around my neighborhood, give a call or stop by my place for tea, coffee, beer, drinks…."
OK, so was he asking me on a date? Or was this textual invitation his way of saying, "So if you’re ever around stop by so we can fool around?"
Sorry, I don’t do contextual sex. If he were really interested in getting to know me, wouldn’t he have called and offered to take me out to dinner, or at the very least, coffee?
This is not the first time I’ve been asked out via SMS (short message service). Once a month I get an SMS from a young, somewhat geeky Tel Aviv lawyer who has been courting me for years. The messages usually read: "I’m in Jerusalem maybe you want to do something." Usually I don’t reply, not only to protest this lazy approach, but to avoid carpel tunnel syndrome. I don’t call back because then he succeeds in placing the expense, effort and burden of the phone call on me.
Despite my lack of responsiveness, he still continues to ask me out over SMS. I guess he never really felt rejected.
…The most cowardly SMS, however, is the break-up SMS.
A friend of mine recently told me how horrible she felt when she sent the following message to a JDater she went out with twice: "I think you’re great, but I don’t think it’s going to work." He called her twice immediately after, and she didn’t pick up. She has yet to listen to the message he left. I’m sure karma will "send" her retribution.
It reminds me of that "Sex and the City" episode when Carrie Bradshaw’s boyfriend dumped her with a Post-it.
"Sorry. I can’t. Don’t hate me," it read. I wonder why he didn’t send it via SMS.
Now that would have been an SMS Pulitzer-prize winner.
So many people fall back on text messages because it excuses them from depth, articulation, and emotional investment. Sometimes suitors opt for Facebook for textual courtship and rejection. Facebook at least requires full sentences, but the Facebook relay still offers one degree of separation.
I can’t stand it when guys "superpoke," "bite," "hug" or send me a virtual drink over Facebook. That’s lazy, impersonal flirtation. E-mail requires more courage, but still, nothing demonstrates more respect in dating and relationships than a phone call or a face to face conversation.