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Hello, Old Friend

May 3, 2010

One of my early post divorce dating ventures involved a membership to a special online club for “the chosen people”. JDate. If you want to make it fancy like tar-jay you can pronounce it jahdahtey, as in je’nate but different. No matter how you choose to pronounce it, its the same embarrassing mess. Or hot mess as they now say. They being other people that aren’t me.

It didn’t take long to realize that when people posted “Tanzania” as their location, they weren’t being funny as I had originally thought, they were just married or dating someone and didn’t want to come up in any of the New York City searches. It also didn’t take me long to write “please be the age and height you say you are” in my profile. I never could have imagined people would lie about such things, as you will eventually meet them in person and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to tell that you aren’t really 6′ but 5’9 and the pictures from this past summer, were really from the past summer 11 years ago. But i was a newly single person and in this century, online dating was as normal as organic milk and google. Only painful, creepy and embarrassing.

For reasons unbeknownst to me I am quite popular in the under 30 bracket. I explain to them that while I am a mom, I am not Stiffler’s mom, and then I turn into a mom and ask “aren’t I too old for you?”

I remember one day getting an email on jahdahtey from a man named Nate. 39, Never married. Tall. Cute. A money manager of some kind. After a couple of emails Nate asks for my number. He calls me immediately. After Nate told me he lived in a very fancy co-op on CPW (he told me the name and then asked if I knew it and then explained to me that living at that address is like living in a private members only club that only few people can understand- to which I reached for the nearest lamp and tried to strangle myself with the electric chord) and a number of other nauseating details about his financial status which Nate wanted to portray as very good (at one point he may have asked for my fax number to fax me tax returns from years past). I was trying to politely excuse myself from the conversation when Nate exclaims “Oh my g-d, I am looking at your profile. I didn’t realize you had a child”.
“Yes. I do.”
“Oh. That’s not going to work. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t be very good with a child. You see, I smoke a lot of pot and…”
“No problem. Thank you for being honest. It’s good to know this right off the bat. Nate, I enjoyed speaking with you. Have a good night.”
“I feel sorry for you” He says.
Huh?
“Dating is hard enough, but to have a child and have to date. That must be really hard for you.” He says.
I almost die after suddenly stabbing myself in the eye with a fork. I want to stab him, but I can’t get to him through the phone. Instead I stab myself.
“Interesting that you feel that way.” I say, “I have never found that to be the case. In fact, my child is my greatest joy and asset and I am so fortunate to have my child, so you see, I have already hit the jackpot.” I cannot believe I am still on the phone with this loser. “Nice speaking with you Nate.”

Two weeks later I met someone fabulous. A divorced dad with a child and we dated for a year.

Fast forward two years since my first encounter with Nate. I hadn’t tried Jdate in about that long and decided to go crawling back and try to give it the old college try. Or in this case the old Yeshiva try.

After a slew of emails from people named “MotleyJew” , “PSILoveJew” , “DontJewWantmeBaby” and so on and so forth, I see a blinking IM. Someone is trying to instant message me. The user name is NateNYC41 (ah he is older now) and I recognize him immediately. I ignore the IM. I figure he doesn’t remember me from 2 years ago. The next day I log in again. NateNYC41 is trying to IM me. That loser, I think to myself, he probably doesn’t even remember that we spoke 2 years ago.

I decide to accept so i can remind him of our first encounter two years prior if he tries to pick me up. As g-d as my witness, and we are talking about JDate, which is religious, so I would not lie, this is the conversation that ensues. Verbatim. I copied the entire thing:

NateNYC41: Hi Mom, how have you been?
(HOLY SHIT! He remembers!)
DarcyDates: Excellent, you?
NateNYC41: Awesome thankfully.
DarcyDates: Good to hear. (always take the high road)
NateNYC41: You know, you are so freakin‘ hot. Why didn’t I try to meet you before? I can’t remember, but I am an idiot.
DarcyDates: Because I had a child and you said you felt bad for me.
NateNYC41: Man, what an ass hole.
DarcyDates: I know, its my favorite JDate story ever. I tell it all the time. (this was a lie, it was really a tie with my other favorite JDate story ever when someone looked up my address through some type of court records and sent me tons of CD’s because he thought I would like them. He was a stalker and we will get into another time)
NateNYC41: Oh man, I’m sorry, my statement was completely misinterpreted, whatever it was I said. You are way too hot to feel sorry for.
DarcyDates: Don’t be sorry. I laughed (at you), and then met someone two weeks later who I dated for a year.
NateNYC41: are you kidding?
DarcyDates: Whats up with you? Still no kids I see?
NateNYC41: Kids? I can barely take care of myself.
(at least he is honest)
DarcyDates: Well, I have some names of some good babysitters
NateNYC41: What is your number?
DarcyDates: No, sorry, we have been down that road before. We are old friends at this point.
NateNYC41: Okay, but your favorite Jdate story needs a postscript.
DarcyDates: Thank you, but I can’t. I don’t want to ruin my favorite story with a lovely dinner.
NateNYC41: You are so meeting me it’s not even funny.
DarcyDates: Cute, but no can do.
NateNYC41: Here is my number. Please call me. I must take you to dinner. 212-555-jdont
DarcyDates: Goodnight Nate. Nice catching up.

Maybe Nate had matured with older age, who knows. In the two years Nate was trying to date every single girl under 35 without a child, I was raising my child. I had watched my child learn to read an entire book, and watched as my child learned to dive in the deep end. These things and all the smaller moments in between were a zillion times more rewarding than any guy I could possibly meet. Like I said, I had already hit the jackpot. I already had my Bashert. I, as far as I am concerned am the luckiest lady alive.

Don’t feel sorry for me. Feel sorry for Nate.

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