‘I’ve got two weeks to find me a boyfriend,” I told my friend as we slurped our soup, hunched over the counter of the kubeh bar in the shuk, all the while keeping our eyes on the sundry stream of characters parading by.
Which is another way of saying, my days as a singles columnist were rapidly coming to an end — not because I found myself the near-sighted, stoop-shouldered, multilingual Jewish genius of my dreams.
‘Going on a whirlwind, round the world tour?” the mover asked me as he packed up my china.
I explained that I lived in Israel. And since the next tenants for my condo in Chicago wanted it unfurnished I had to pack up and store everything.
Because he was my mover he did not ask the kind of probing, Talmudic question that this situation begs, namely: If I am living in Israel for nearly two years already, why don’t I just up and ship everything to Israel or sell it off?
The thing about Jerusalem is, you’re bound to run into someone you know at some point.
And by “you” I mean, “me.”
Which is another way of saying, while waiting for the bus the other day, the gentleman who walked by and then parked himself right behind me and who looked suspiciously like the gentleman in the States who had once stolen my heart, was no doubt the very same man.
We met at a bar in Tel Aviv. I was covering an event for work and he was a volunteer for the organization I was profiling.
According to my version, I was standing on the sidelines, mustering up my courage to approach strangers, when he approached me. Relieved that the “quotes” were coming to me and that I didn’t have to ask for them, I proceeded to pull out my notebook and pepper him with questions. All in the name of work, of course.
The thing about “Greenberg,” the latest movie by my most favorite filmmaker, Noah Baumbach, is that I’ve dated that guy. Not Baumbach, unfortunately. I should be so lucky. But the character, Greenberg, played by the king of on-screen neuroses, Ben Stiller.
‘Douglas is out of town again,” I tell my mother with a sigh. “I am so proud of him, really, winning the MacArthur ‘genius’ grant and then spending the free time he doesn’t have in Haiti, but still ... even geniuses need to spend some time with their girlfriends!”
“I wish I could meet this Douglas, I have heard so much about him,” is my mother’s reply.