My neighbor is a nice guy. Let’s call him Sam. Sam and I became acquainted recently when a very official-looking notice was posted on the door to our building. Due to it’s having been written in Hebrew and my general lack of Hebrew-abilities, I was sure that it was an eviction notice (that was the kind of week I was having) for the whole building.
I, myself, am not a “make-new-friends” kind of person unless absolutely necessary, but in this situation, I just needed to know how much time we all had to vacate before we were locked out and homeless. Taking a deep breath, I marched up the stairs, Hebrew notice in hand, and then cautiously knocked on Sam’s door.
To my surprise, I was met with a very warm welcome and an insistence that I come in, drink some orange juice, eat some cookies, and sit and talk for a bit. Uncomfortably, a “bit” turned into an hour. And by the end of it, I had not only learned Sam’s whole life story, but also that we were not about to be thrown out into the street.
As I left that day, Sam claimed to have a friend who he wanted to set me up with. “Sure. Why not,” I said not believing that this match would ever come into fruition. That was an incorrect assumption.
Not only did Sam actually introduce me to this “friend” but the friend and I went on three whole dates before I admitted that I just wasn’t feeling it. Was it his smell? Was it his inability to relax? Was it the way he shoveled food into his mouth like he was winning a race? Was it his general small-time attitude? Or maybe it was the fact that twice in two dates he made it a point to tell me that his clothes don’t fit anymore because his chest has gotten too big from working out. Who knows. The bottom line is that he just wasn’t for me.
Last night, I’m back at Sam’s returning his tupperware (yep, that’s right. He forced me to take home leftovers too), when he again coerced me into sitting at his place for about an hour. In the hour, he of course asked me what was going on between his friend and me, claiming to “not have asked him anything,” and “just being curious.” I told him the truth: your friend is nice, he’s just not for me.
“Lo nora (no worries)!” Sam exclaimed. “There’s someone for you, and I’m going to find him!” Sigh. If he insists. Who am I to try and stop a runaway train?
Something I noticed about Sam last night, though, is that he’s not a good listener. Maybe he has some sort of ADD, but he would ask me a question then not wait to hear the response. Or only listen to the first 10 seconds of the response then cut me off with more questions about different things without ever hearing the real answer. Annoying.
When Sam was telling me yesterday how he doesn’t like to leave the apartment, I found myself explaining to him that generally I find myself going from place to place to spend my time, but being alone. If I want to be “with people,” I go to a cafe to write or read. Or I go to the beach to people watch. I don’t need to be constantly entertained. And I am happy to include my friends in whatever I am doing, but very rarely does “being alone” bother me. And when I don’t want to be alone, I reach out. I don’t see a problem with this. Sure, it’s not terribly conducive to dating/meeting new men. But, I still seem to have a (knock wood) relatively constant flow of new men and first dates.
One day one will stick.