Singles Shabbaton Chronicles Part 19
Saturday, 3 pm
Lunch is served. I am at table with Miriam, Levi, Ronit (the woman with developmental disabilities), a man in his early 50’s or so, and three youngish women I haven’t met yet. The three new women are having fun at this event because they’d come together as a group of friends. One of them suggests that I must write for the Jerusalem Post, right? Still, they seem normal and nice and I wonder why I haven't seen them yet. It feels weird to be eating chicken and cholent at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. I start speaking with Ronit about where she lives. She used to have roommates, she says, but it didn’t work out so she moved back in with her parents. I know where she’s coming from and tell her some of my roommate stories. I feel bad for Ronit. She has a pathetic, shriveled look about her and walks and talks funny. But she is sweet and can laugh at herself. It must be really hard for her. Everyone looks at the container first, not what’s inside it, including me.
There is a relatively handsome man, probably in his early 40’s, who has been catching my eye all of Shabbat and smiling at me. Once he even winked. I have smiled back, but not once has he approached me. He's been hanging out with one of his buddies, probably smiling at all the women but --come to think of it-- approaching nobody, just being Mr. Smile Player so he can go home and tell his Mamma that he's really trying to find a wife, and he even went on this Shabbaton, see? Maybe he and his male friend have, uh, something else going on, and they've come on this Shabbaton to keep up pretenses. Or maybe he's a smily wimpy man, who is brave enough to smile but petrified of an actual relationship. Or maybe he's "just not into" any of us.
Whatever. Shabbos is almost over. Yala kadimah!