Dating on the 'Net

By Hillary Blank
American University

I must confess that I think fairytales are silly and misleading.

Cinderella should have gone shopping for a better fit in the shoe department at Loehmann’s, Sleeping Beauty ought to have left the spinning and weaving to the good tailor down the street, and Snow White was just plain stupid for leaving seven gainfully employed and attentive men for a guy who only liked her for her looks.

Gone are the days of Fiddler’s "Matchmaker," of 20 sheep exchanged for a bride; even a listing that reads "single white female seeks single white male" is passé.  We are officially living in a "You’ve Got Mail" world, where romance is just a mouse-click away.

So, in this virtual dating world, where have all the nice, Jewish doctors gone?  Where do the best of the Jewish American Princesses go shopping for "NJBs", Nice Jewish Boys?  Assuming a title formerly reserved for Camp Ramah and Brandeis University, the hottest new Jewish singles’ hunting ground is JDate.com.

In my personal love life, JDate is Mile 18 on a long romantic journey.  As a young girl in California, I never had any kind of "O.C." or "Beverly Hills 90210" fast-paced life and certainly never dated with the speed or tenacity of those crazy characters.  In fact, I can confidently look back on my public school education and call myself a bona fide nerd. 

I spent the majority of my Saturdays not at the movies, but rather, at synagogue, where I was more likely to be judged by the Cantor on my davening skills than by the other teens in attendance.  In our monthly after-Shabbat USY discussion groups, I can recall multiple conversations on the topic of interfaith dating and even marriage.  The general consensus of our little community was that finding desirable Jewish dating material was outrageously difficult and that the ultimate concern ought to be marrying a Jew, not dating a Jew.  Time and again, the subject of our generation’s responsibility to "ensure Jewish continuity" was burned into our minds.

Continuity is important.  It is key, I believe, to a future world in which I would like my children to live, where my family’s Jewish faith can be less a character trait than a lifestyle.  However, I am committed to dating Jewish men for a far different reason: commonality.

I have not always had a "Jewish Boys Only" policy.  I would never deny Colin Farrell, my high school homecoming king or the attractive baristas at my local Starbucks, the pleasure of school-girl crushes.  And in my senior year of high school, this poor unfortunate soul struck a bit of luck—my best friend of five years, a handsome and amazing fellow, transformed into my high school sweetheart, complete with appearances as prom date and graduation guest.

My sweetheart was a pure-bred goy, complete with obnoxious (although true enough) assumptions about Jewish culture based on media stereotypes.  After being a good sport about attending my students’ Bar and Bat Mitzvah celebrations as my date, I realized that there was a missing link in our relationship.  My boyfriend would need a "Dummies’ Guide to Judaism" to pass comfortably through life with me.

Judaism defines the food that I eat and the jobs at which I am employed.  I am a Jewish Studies major and I spend half my weekend at services and the other half teaching Hebrew school.  The club in which I serve on an executive board is Jewish, my family is Jewish, and even my vocabulary is infused with typical Yiddish catchphrases.  And, in my humble opinion, the best relationships usually do not consist of one person explaining their culture to the other person more than perhaps a quarter of their time together. After four confusing, though lovely, months, I was bordering on insanity from explaining my world, my life, to my boyfriend.

Enter JDate.  One year on the East Coast, with a new social life, a new job and even a new haircut in hand, I skated onto the Washington, D.C. dating scene.  With my former sweetheart 3,000 miles to the West, I began to seek a few NJB’s to keep me warm.  Starting small, mostly on campus and slowly expanding my horizons, I noticed that few of the young Jewish men fit my bill.  Of the slick AEPi boys, my virtual fraternity brothers at Hillel and the few guys I spotted wearing Seaboard Region USY t-shirts at the gym, none made me melt.

Wireless laptop in hand, I entered the magical land of JDate with a few quick strokes of the keyboard. Armed with the knowledge that JDate is widely considered a thorough and trusted dating service, I bypassed the paid subscription portion and made a bee-line for the lengthy essay section.  JDate wanted to know everything about me—my political affiliation, level of physical activity, ideal first date and even favorite cuisines were under fire.  I took that opportunity to browse the site for example answers, and was highly amused at the number of young men who proudly proclaimed, "my bubbe made me do this."

This past summer was amusingly shaped by my JDate adventures. In all, I had eight successful dates with four different young men, enjoyed IM conversations with 14 prospects and viewed 101 J*Daters either out of curiosity or interest (and, rarely, desperation).  I have taken a six mile walk, attended a Shakespeare play, waited in the rain, drunk numerous cups of coffee, run, cried, laughed, appreciated and learned, all in the name of the honorable JDate. *Cue romantic comedy score*

I am happy to report that I remain a pleased member of the JDating community.  Despite scoffing commentary and hilarious jokes from good friends, I have great memories of this first East Coast summer thanks in part to my JDate experiences.  Luckily, even ten years from now I would not be considered an old maid if I were still unmarried, and I predict that JDate will be waiting for me if I fail to find my yarmulke-toting Prince Charming by the year 2015.

And if anyone’s bubbe knows of an eligible NJB in the D.C. area, well, you know where to find me.

For more information about JDate, visit the website at http://www.jdate.com.

[Posted 9/5/05]