Unbroken Glass

This is a guy I’ve met few years ago in South Africa.
He’s not South African though.
HE’S NO ONE YOU KNOW, I hope.

My friend there set it up and we’ve decided to meet one Motzei Shabbos.
On that Shabbos I was invited to have meal at this family, they had like a billion guests. I was just about to go wash when a great looking guy came to me asked for my name.
When I told it to him, he smiled and said that it’s all so interesting because he’s actually the guy I’m supposed to go out with later that evening, he just heard me speak in Hebrew to someone and thought maybe I’m his date. He was quite excited of the coincidence. I was too hungry to be excited of anything so I just smiled at him and went off to wash, noting to myself that he is in fact kind of cute.

On Motzei Shabbos, as planned, he came to pick me up and we went to have a drink in this fantastic place he knows.
We sat there and we spoke for hours and he was so sweet and smart and funny, I decided that I like him.
After two cups of coffee, I became a bit thirsty so I ordered me a diet coke and walked out to the car to get my CD player, I had to make the guy listen to something I bought just the day before (DJ She is in the house, Yo).

On my way back from the car, I was held by a couple whom I was trying to convince I’m really not Chinese. It was such a silly conversation, I mean, I don’t LOOK Chinese, but they claimed that I definitely do and why would I want to hide it when it’s just so nice to be Chinese.
After two frustrating minutes of this, I said my goodbyes to them, in Chinese of course, and went back to the table, where my date was waiting for me.
As I was making my way through the crowd and wondering whether the whole Chinese scene was supposed to be a compliment, I noticed that my diet coke (FINE, I know that in South Africa you call it “Coke Light” but it’s still WEIRD) has already been poured to my glass.
He poured my diet coke for me.

Now, I know it may sound odd to all you non-Israelis, but no one EVER does that here.
Being an Israeli girl, growing up and knowing Israeli men, you come to that point where you don’t really expect much out of them; as I’ve already mentioned before, Israeli girls mostly appear as being very tough and it seems that the men here just accept it and don’t get that underneath all that, we’re just, well, girls. And we’d like to be treated as girls.

But that’s just one of those little things we don’t tell men about us and yet reserve all privilege to get upset when they simply don’t know it by themselves.

I came to the table very slowly, looking at the glass…looking at him…and back at the glass again. He kept a cool face, as if it’s an everyday thing for him. I was shocked that finally a guy had figured it out, how to give me that warm fuzzy feeling and make me smile idiotically.
Pour my diet coke for me.

Anyway, I pulled myself together and we continued talking.
He asked me how many shidduchim I had. I don’t really like it when guys ask me that question, but he poured my can for me so he’s entitled to anything as I see it. I don’t really remember the answer for that one, it was probably thirty something. He expressed his admiration and then smiled and said I’m his first date. In 6 years.
WHAT??
Well, he said, I don’t want to get married, that’s why I don’t date.
Oooh now that was slightly confusing for me.
“So, why are we here now, together, on a date?” Seemed like the right question at that point.
“Have few drinks, chat for a while and then go home. I really don’t want to get married now. I just heard you’re fun to spend time with, so I said why not. And you *are* fun to be with, I say we’ll do this tomorrow also.”

Oh. Now that was just lovely.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Bah, didn’t work.
I lowered my voice to the minimum and asked
“What do you think I am? An entertainer? You think I ENJOY going out with half the Middle East? Do you think it’s appropriate for a frum guy to take a frum girl out just for fun?”

He didn’t really get what my problem was, he said that if we’re not married then why cant we at least enjoy ourselves in the meantime and go out the next day, nothing serious, just for a drink.

Okay, not as clever as I thought.

I told him that not dating a single girl in 6 years is clearly madness, that I don’t even want to think of how he deals with being by himself for so long and that if he doesn’t want to get married then he shouldn’t have taken me out in the first place. Now take me home.

As a punishment, I made him let me drive back, just for the adventure of driving at the wrong side of the road and not having to stop at red robots.
Oh, Jo’burg by night…
After my pathetic attempt to park the car, we said goodnight and I left.

I was so disappointed.
Finally I meet a can pourer, and he turns out to be just another typical guy who’s terrified of commitment but still likes to take girls out just cos he misses the sight of us. (though, when a year later I went out with another guy who thought exactly the same about me but only remembered to tell me that after few months of dating, I came to appreciate this guy’s honesty).

I think it was then when I began to despair of men in general.
They dont really want to get married at all, just looking for someone who’ll convince them it’s all worthwhile, the prettier the better.

Well, I’m not going to even try.
Diet Coke break.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, October 23rd, 2002 at 10:57 am and is filed under She. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.