In my view: Don’t compliment your date

Issue of Sept. 12, 2008

I choose my topics carefully. After all, there is no need to present an exhaustive catalogue of the madness that one encounters or breathlessly note every example. I prefer to take note of the best of the worst. This, for instance:

An anonymous writer to another well-known Jewish publication recently sent in a letter to a column that is edited by two anonymous singles (since singles who can have opinions traced back to them are not marriageable). The writer is a kollel boy in his mid-20s (someone who would otherwise be a man), who related his third date with a young “Bais Yaakov type.”

The date with the girl began with a meeting with her parents in their home. At some point the girl descended the stairs, as the script in this play calls for, and paused midway while the conversation continued.

The boy related that he saw her there and noticed that she looked very pretty. He snuck glances at her when he didn’t think she was looking. (No explanation for how it took him three dates to discover that the person he was going out with was attractive.) When they were finally released from the home, he told her that she looked “nice.” She blushed and they went on their way to that most romantic of settings, a lounge.

During the date the girl got very quiet and things became “awkward” for about 15 minutes. The boy decided to curtail the date, with the excuse that he needed to get an early start the following morning. He saw fit to note that the girl finished her drink and recited “borei nefashot.” She became more talkative during the ride back, and the date concluded with our adult male of 25 or so saying that he guessed the shadchan would be in touch.

Sure enough, there was a problem. The girl was in touch with the shadchan immediately (as opposed to sitting on things for a bit, as the script usually calls for, lest one appear desperate, hasty, interested or, G-d forbid, independent).

The girl was severely offended that the boy had complimented her on her looks. She had thought he was different, but now saw that he was really “just a guy.” (To the boy’s credit, he made no promise to support his future wife, since then he would really be a bum.) She did not think she could continue to see him after seeing the “real” him, someone who makes flattering “personal comments” about the girls he dates.

The boy was very distressed by this turn of events, particularly because two shadchanim had advised him that it is appropriate to tell a girl she looks nice; after all, girls put in a lot of effort to look nice on dates and it’s appropriate to show that you notice and appreciate it. The boy was only following the advice of the shadchanim, and now he was in big trouble.

The response was predictably pareve. What would it take for a shidduch pundit to scream at foolish letter-writers: “What in the world is wrong with all you people?”

Is there any limit to the absurdities that will be dignified and seriously discussed as though it is perfectly normal for adults to act like incompetent children? What will it take for the “experts” out there to come up with more thoughtful suggestions for our infants in adult bodies than to further consult with shadchanim, further consult with a rav, and have more bitachon? (“Grow up” is a pithy bit of advice that would often be appropriate, as is “think for yourself once in a while.”)

One thing is certain. If they were on a third date and there was no thought of engagement, then something was clearly amiss.