It’s A Small World After All
Once a month, three of my married girlfriends ditch their husbands to spend a few hours over dinner dishing on girl stuff with me. More often than not, the subject of my dating life comes up, and last night was no exception. I filled them all in on my five dates with CL Guy, his deficiency in fetching water, and also the lack of a return phone call (still!). [ed. note: Apparently, The Bus doesn't discriminate based on age. And with age, does not necessarily come maturity. Yes, I am well aware that blaming The Bus may be premature. Call it instinct.]
Knowing two of my friends are attorneys, I figure at least one of them knows a nice Jewish boy to set me up with. And, I was right! She tells me he’s super sweet, a good guy, but she’s not sure if he’s single. I ask for more details. Turns out he’s a defense attorney and his name is Xxxxx. (Xxxxx being a very typical name for a Jewish guy.) Funny, I say, I’ve dated three guys named Xxxxx, one of whom is an attorney. I ask his last name and am told another very typical Jewish last name, which happens to be the same as the attorney I dated. Hmm. More details please. Well, she says, the only negative is that he lives in Orange County.
Yes, you guessed it. I was potentially set up with the Orange County attorney I dated years ago and had lunch with on Wednesday. My friend is convinced it means something and that I should date him again. I’m convinced it just means there’s a lack of Jewish men who don’t live with their parents.
And, to make my week even weirder, I randomly bumped into Separated Guy in an elevator in the Valley the other day.
Finally, it appears I am not alone in my confusion of late.
