The title of the article is exactly what this article is about. I was shopping this week and heard a couple of things that made me look to the left and stare—as if a hidden camera were there and able to read my expression. And what would my expression have been? It would’ve been “seriously?” So, imagine the face you would make when you hear something that you can’t believe to be true because it’s crazy if it were true!
I do my best to weed out the letters that don’t seem genuine or ones that I think are trying to pull a fast one on me, trying to get some outlandish dating story or issue in the paper. I do the best I can. Maybe some have slipped in a time or two, but I try. While waiting patiently in line this past week, I couldn’t help but overhear, because they were talking very loudly (so I was not eavesdropping), the two cashiers and a customer discussing dating articles that appeared in other papers recently. First things first: I will never bash or speak critically of anyone if I am able to help it, and I certainly would never publish harsh words—so I’m saying that I truly believe that what the women were discussing were true events that happened and appeared in another frum paper’s dating section. I’m just amazed at what I heard. I thought I’d heard it all, but I guess not. The women were trying to figure out if the stories were true. Possibly, one could have been labeled as “creative writing,” but I fully believe that the other can and did happen. You can be the judge.
What’s the point of me writing what I overheard? It’s not to bash a paper or a columnist—it is to say, “What have we done to ourselves? Have we sunk so low that people think this is normal?” If these stories are true, maybe we can attribute them to why there is still a “single crisis” among “older singles.” This is what I’m hearing; I don’t use the word “crisis” and don’t think it’s just for “older singles.” I think there is an issue why so many great men and women are in the dating pool and have no one to pair off with when the lifeguard blows the whistle and you need to find your buddy.
Some of you may have read these articles. I’m only writing what I heard discussed because I did not read the article—therefore, I can’t form an honest opinion other than how weird these situations seem and just shake my head if they’re true.
Scenario 1: A man—I don’t know how old; he could be 20, 30, 40... I hope he’s young and a mature person with sechel didn’t say this or would know better than to say something like this—was dating a woman, also of questionable age, and he had asked to use the bathroom in the woman’s home. While in the bathroom, he does what any yenta would do and begins to look around. Lo and behold, he finds an Ozempic syringe or something that had Ozempic printed on it in the garbage. The woman he’s dating isn’t fat. She does have a mother and a sister who live in the house. Who does this Ozempic paraphernalia belong to, he wonders. And like we were all taught in grade school, the only way to find an answer to a question is if you ask. “There’s no such thing as a stupid question,” I remember one teacher saying. I can give you over a dozen examples of stupid questions, which left the one who asked them embarrassed afterward, that I’ve heard over my lifetime. I don’t know when or how, but sometime during that evening, the man told the woman on the date that he saw “Ozempic in the garbage” and wanted to know who it belonged to. Oyyyyyyyy.
This question is a very bad one for more than one reason. Firstly, who tells someone what they saw in their garbage? Are you readily admitting to snooping, which then makes you look bad? Another reason is that it has been established that someone in the household has a weight issue, and the only reason why this person is not fat—I don’t know how thin or fat or tall or short anyone here is—is because Ozempic is the answer. Who’s to say it doesn’t belong to the father, or brother, if there is a brother? What would make someone admit that he looked through, or at, the garbage can and spotted the Ozempic product sitting nicely atop a pile of dirty tissues? And what business is it of yours if your date or a family member is taking Ozempic? In today’s world, people research potential dates as if they are turning in a term paper. I would think that weight, which is an unfortunately common topic when it comes to shidduchim, would’ve been a topic covered in the research because we all know, “No one wants to marry someone who’s fat.” I’ve heard that dozens of times. So now, not only did you not do enough research on the girl and her family, you are now asking your date to give you the answers about a fact you failed to research on your own? And how embarrassing it is to be asked such a question! I would’ve said it belonged to my cleaning lady. I have no idea what the woman answered or if she called her date rude or an idiot for asking such a question. Were HIPAA forms signed before the date?
The reason I don’t know the answer to how the story ended was because one of the ladies launched into Scenario 2: “And what about the guy with the tracker?” One of the women questioned, “What tracker?” The original woman answered, “The tracker the guy’s mother put on him, so she knows where he goes on dates.” The women howled laughing. They said that this story had to be fake because what mother would put an AirTag, or something like it, in the car of their adult child, even if he is borrowing his parents’ car, or slip it into a coat jacket? Yes, my son has an AirTag—or I should say had an AirTag. When it started pinging on Jewel and Main for a whole day, and after I called the school and bus company, I was able to figure out that the AirTag was “messing with” the Wi-Fi of the bus driver, so the kids’ bags were searched and the AirTag was thrown out the window. My husband went looking for the AirTag. No luck. Then it started pinging in Staten Island—you guessed it: the garbage dump. Long story short, the driver was fired for throwing out a child’s AirTag, and I’m sure for false search and seizure of something belonging to a child, and the bus company reimbursed me for it. We now have a tracking device with a lock that is either on my son or locked onto his bag, and only I have the key. But my son is seven. This man must be in his twenties, at the very least, right? So a mother put a tracking device in the car or on her son to track the whereabouts of the son on the date? Why doesn’t she hack into the police cameras and follow the car visually? See if her son yields to pedestrians in crosswalks or runs a red light?
I don’t know any more to this story except that the mother put a tracker on the son, who happens to be a lawyer. Maybe, just maybe, I could understand if the woman had a tracker in her purse or pocket—you never know in today’s world what could happen. Like I tell my daughter, “Just because he or she is frum does not mean they are nice or normal. Strangers don’t look spooky. They look like everyone else; that’s why people don’t stay away from them.” If they looked spooky, no one would go near a stranger, and so many kidnappings would be avoided. Just because the woman is going on a date with a virtual stranger arranged by a third party, be it a friend or shadchan, does not mean this guy isn’t crazy or bad. We’re guessing at this from one or two phone calls before we usually get into a car with them and information a third party tells you, which may or may not be 100% accurate. We’re doing everything our parents told us NOT to do as children! Such mixed messages. Anyway, I could understand if the woman wore a tracker in case anything should, chas v’shalom, happen to her. The police would know where to find her. But the mommy of the “boy”—excuse me, of a “lawyer boy?” This is too much, and I suggest whoever this prince ends up marrying lay down some ground rules with her shvigar ASAP.
I only know two sentences about two stories. The cashiers and friends were laughing. Some said the story or stories had to be made up. One said she can believe that the tracker one is true, “but to be stupid enough to ask about Ozempic? He needs dating classes...”
Like I said, I thought I had heard it all. That was until I stood in line earlier this week. I don’t know. Dating is hard. Are we making it harder? A brachah for all the singles: young, old, short, tall, blonde, brunette, redheaded, glasses- or contact-wearing... “May Hashem give you the strength to continue dating, and to stay sane until you find your bashert.”
Hatzlachah to you all—seriously.
The wait is almost over. Been There, Dated That, my next book, will be ready to purchase in a few short weeks. Wouldn’t it be great to have the best of this column all in one place? All the stories, opinions, advice... A dating book that everyone—young and old, married or single—can relate to. Stay tuned for details...
Goldy Krantz is an LMSW and a lifelong Queens resident, guest lecturer, and author of the shidduch dating book “The Best of My Worst” and children’s book “Where Has Zaidy Gone?” She can be contacted at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.. Goldy is an experienced dating coach offering private sessions. To inquire, contact her at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..