I need friends

I say the words, silently, hear them echo in my mind. There's no cause for self pity, but I do have to face the facts.

I need friends, new friends.

I'm a fresh yet quintessential loner. My free-time options are being home alone, or being in town alone.

I've perfected the art of eating alone; buying a French crepe on Ben- Yehudah, spread with chocolate and nuts, and nibbling at it as I window shop. That's better than finding an empty table at the pizza place, watching the other people there, eves-dropping on their conversations, while biting and chewing down a necessary supper as fast as possible.

How did I get here, to this lonely place? I may not be a social butterfly, but I'm no sociopath either.

And I do have friends! I consider printing it in bold marker pen letters on a folded piece of cardboard, placing it by me as I eat alone. "I have friends." Just they are married you see. Almost all of them. They can't hang out any more.

I never bothered to make new friends, when the old ones cleared the ranks. Because I didn't need new friends, my current ones were great, so what if they were married? Soon I'd be married too and we could go shopping for Shaitels together. Besides, changed marital status is no reason to end a friendship.

And when do I even have the time, the opportunity, for meeting new girls? Every spare moment, every gram of physical and emotional energy, goes on meeting guys.

I sometimes bump into girls my age, at Shiurim and in Shul. Though I should call them women; they are all married, usually pushing a stroller, or holding a toddler by the hand. They won't go hitchhiking across Europe with me, or even pop out for a milkshake. They are no more use than my old friends.

Perhaps there are single girls out there, hiding in the crevices. Perhaps I should search for them, set out on a mission. Perhaps I should even move from suburban-family-land to central-singles -city, and start bonding with female roomies.

The truth is though, that once I discovered the exciting and exotic other sex, with all its quirks and complexities and endless differences, well, girls just seem boring after that. Too like me. All you end up doing, with girls, is talking about guys.

But guys aren't the solution either. The guys I date, they come and go. The other guys, the platonic friendship ones, they often end up being complicated, or even just akward when I'm dating someone else. In any case, I can't go to Europe with a guy, I can't go shopping with him, or swimming at the beach.

I need friends, new friends, girl friends.

But I don't know where to find them. And I'm not trying very hard. Because I don't want them. I want a new guy friend. A husband friend. A friend who's forever.

Girl Dates Woman

I've dated many men, in the last few years. They have some things in common. For a start, they are all single. Also, they are all in their twenties.

I also go out with women. Mainly married women. Their ages range through the twenties to sixties.

Don't be shocked. Hang on, and I'll explain.

I'm in town, meeting up with a pal, one of the rare occasions she's in the hood. I get a phone call. It's my friend's mom, who since her own daughter recently acquired a new last name, has sweetly joined the ranks of those attempting to marry me off.
"Someone wants to meet you. She has a guy."
"Right. But I don't meet women. Who is he?"
'She won't tell me anything. She wants to meet you first."
I entreat and I protest, but eventually I give in. The meeting is set up for the following night.

Wednesday evening I get home from work. I choose an outfit which I hope the mystery woman will like or at least approve of, touch up my makeup, and head out.
As I ring the doorbell, I surreptitiously fix my hair in the reflection in the mirrored sign. Then the door swings open, and I'm led inside. Looked over from head to foot. Sat beside a kitchen table, offered a cold drink. And the date begins. An hour of small talk. Without the attraction to spice it up. I can't flirt, can't look into her eyes. But I do need to have her liking me. I get her laughing, that's a good sign. She admires my bag, another plus in my favor. She compliments my figure, something I don't get on dates with guys. I try asking about the guy, but it turns out she doesn't know if he's available, so no point discussing him. "You have to understand. He's been dating for a good few years now. He's burnt out. I can't set him up with just anyone, I want to save him that."
I wonder about myself. The dates with guys I somehow manage to slot in, between work and studying and life. Must I date women, on top of that?
Finally she brings the night to an end. "It's been great meeting you! We'll be in touch."

Have I passed the test?

It seems I have. The date is set up. "My dear, you're lovely, inside and out. I know he'll fall for you." Well she likes me.

One date later we all learn that he doesn't.
I'm "Too skinny. Too feminine." He prefers plump. Prefers tomboyish.

I think Mr. Eligible's female guardian has already met the girl of his dreams. But she turned her down. She wasn't her type. Overweight. Not slim enough. Or maybe the looks passed, but there was no chemistry, on the girl-woman date. I mean you can't set him up with just anyone. You have to meet her first.

PS. To all my well-wishers, don't worry, I didn't like the guy either. I preferred the shadchanit.