Growing up in Jacksonville, Florida, I never got to experience dating Jewish guys in high school. I was one of the only Jewish kids and my temple was 45 minutes away. So when I went off to college at Florida Atlantic University, I had a feeling I was going to meet my NJB. A few months after starting college, I was in a sorority, involved with Jewish life on campus, and diving into dating apps.
I downloaded JSwipe, AKA Jewish Tinder, hoping to find my dream guy (the body of a Hemsworth, the humor of Adam Sandler, and the ambition of a Kennedy, just FYI). When I matched with a guy and the little icon popped up featuring a couple in chairs being hoisted into the air with the words “mazel tov” spread across the screen, I was excited. He was foreign, smart, and athletic — perfect for an 18-year-old who was experiencing Jewish dating for the first time. After a week of talking on the app, we went out to get ice cream in a small outdoor shopping center near my campus.
We walked, we talked, and I was happy thinking I met a nice Jewish boy. But then we sat down on a bench and he said to me, “By the way, I’m not Jewish, my friend told me to get this app.” I was in shock. Those words played in my head as I just stared at him. Annoyed and still surprised, I laughed it up and told him it was okay, which it was, I guess. But as we continued our walk around the center, his words kept nagging at me. He also kept making unwanted advances on me every few minutes. He had picked me up from my dorm so there was no way for me to leave. I knew I had to call my fraternity friends.
After making up an elaborate lie about how my sorority big got broken up with and needed me, I hopped into my friend’s car and let out a sigh of relief. It wasn’t the fact that he wasn’t Jewish, but that it took him so long to tell me the truth. I was still optimistic, though, about meeting my Jewish dream boat.
Since my university was in Boca Raton, the app was very active — there were a lot of gefilte fish in the sea. On my next date, I knew it was going to be different. We went to the Cheesecake Factory, ate 2300 calories worth of pasta, and were having a very nice evening. Towards the end of the dinner, he cleared his throat and then it came: “I lied on my profile. I’m not Jewish. I heard Jewish girls are great to date!” He let out a big grin and took another piece of white bread from the table (I should have known from his eating habits that the date was going badly). Just like with the previous guy, I laughed it off, but the same annoyance crept up on me. Even more than finding a Jewish boyfriend, all I wanted was honesty. Was that too much to ask?
As this continued to happen again and again, I thought I was cursed. But on my last date while using the app, I really felt as if I finally met the nice Jewish boy I was looking for. He was everything on my list, and while I did think it was odd for someone to have a McDonald’s-themed bar mitzvah, who was I to judge? After revealing he didn’t really believe in religion, he then told me, “My friend said Jewish girls give great head, so I said YOLO.”
This one I couldn’t laugh off — I spit out the water I was drinking. He seriously made up a story about his bar mitzvah, just to woo me? I wasn’t offended by his statement, but it did get me thinking, why lie on a dating app? Is this what it’s come to in the dating world? I’m 24 now and still haven’t found the right NJB, but you never know. There’s plenty of gefilte fish in the sea.
But as for those guys?
What fucking schmucks.
