Nothing a little Chicken Patai can’t solve

I don’t want to go into too many details here, for obvious reasons, but suffice to say: I enjoyed my date with tie-dye guy, but 100 sheks says I’ll never hear from him again. Let’s just say that after dozens upon dozens – maybe hundreds, by now—of first dates, I have learned the following: It’s all in the goodbye.

A man might have a deep, deep two-hour conversation with you; he might look you directly in the eyes all that time; the conversation might flow comfortably, with each of you contributing around 50 percent; he might open up to you about personal things; he might lean in real close and look to any outside observer like he is really into you and hanging on every word; but if, at the end of the date, a man in his 30’s gives you a lukewarm goodbye and doesn’t explicitly state that he wants to see you again, it’s all over. He’s going, going, gone. May as well go back to perusing Jdate.

Could this time be an exception? Sure! Maybe my instincts are all wrong! And, you know, Mashiach is coming any day now.

It doesn’t help that this week I’ve also done a lot of running around in the hot sun in uncomfortable shoes, not feeling good about my work, went to a wedding (which was nice but weddings are very draining when you are 32 and single), and had my dry cleaner destroy one of my favorite outfits. Sucky week.

So I’ve spent the last 20 hours doing what any healthy single woman in her 30’s would do when she’s feeling fed up with dating, and trying not to become bitter: I stayed in bed, eating Chinese food and chocolate wafers, and watched several hours worth of “Sex and the City.”