The Fallacy of Flirting Through Poetry

A few bright people came up with an idea after COVID-19 came in and ruined all of our lives (or at least the 2020 baseball season.) They would create a Facebook group filled with singles and each single could post a picture of themselves along with a description of what they were looking for. Then, people who read the entry could comment potential ideas or even message the person directly to see if they were interested in going out.

It worked.

A little too well.

To date, the group has 18,000 members. People from ages 19-75 have posted looking for their loved ones. It's had chassidish, chabad, yeshivish, modern, conservative, reform, and totally unaffiliated people post. During the summer, it had a large following with a crowd who were looking for same-sex partners.

As it began to quiet down a bit, I began to wonder. Not wonder if I would find Mr. Right. Just wonder what response I would get.

I was not disappointed.

After a kind friend posted my profile for me (I determined it was too desperate to be seen posting for myself) my chat inbox was quickly flooded with notes from interested guys. I had carefully crafted the description of myself to include my interests, career, and hashkafic status.

A guy who used to live LITERALLY NEXT DOOR TO ME (in case you didn't get that, I'll further explain: I lived in one house. He lived in the next one over. I could see his living room from my living room) reached out to me with no clue who I was. I was this mystery girl who happened to be from the same hometown as he is!

Yeah buddy, I know where your couch used to be.

I am very lucky to have a good elimination system which works like this: if he writes on a level that is below 5th grade grammatically he does not get a response.

This eliminated 95% of the messages.

The guy from South Africa who wanted to date long distance? Out. The guy who sent his message on shabbos? Out. The guy who reached out to me to ask me if my friend who posted my profile happened to be single and, if so, could I give him her number?

That's just rude.

I quite enjoyed the guy who opened with "you have lovely eyes," because I do have lovely eyes! But also, what a weird thing to say. Out. The guy who introduced himself by saying Dmitri is here!-also out. The only people who can announce themselves that way are the members of the crime fighting group the PJ Masks or the Paw Patrol.

I ended up going out with 2 guys from this endeavor, one via zoom and one in person. The zoom date lasted 15 minutes and in the middle he switched the camera around so I was looking at his legs. I don't think he realized this. He was in pajama shorts. Also, he was watching football during our date.

The other guy I went out with reached out to me to let me know he is a brain surgeon. I have a very ironclad rule: if he is a brain surgeon just shut up and go out with him. So I shut up and went out with him.

It did not work out, for reasons I may share another time.

But the greatest thing Corona Crush provided for me, possibly the greatest gift I have ever been given, was the boy who decided to open up our conversation with a poem he had written for me. About me.

A poem.

Not like 3 lines of roses are red. An epic read that spanned PARAGRAPHS.

Did I take a screenshot?

Does Kim Kardashian keep receipts?

(Both yes)

I won't share it here, because this is the internet and you never know who could find this. I will tell you some of my most favorite things about it. I'm talking a 5 on my AP Literature exam type of deep dive here. Plus, why just read the poem when you can have me analyze it? Isn't that what you are here for?

The name of the poem is gateways. What is the gate guarding? Is it the Chamber of Secrets? Please say it's the Chamber of Secrets!

The poem describes a paradise type place where a woman (ME!) is standing. I'm standing before a sanctuary.

Guys, it's definitely the Chamber of Secrets.

The poem continues to describe the sanctuary and the woman guarding it as the most powerful, beautiful, and awe-inspiring things in all of creation. In this poem my eyes "radiate a power that shapes the universe around her."

So, a microwave?

"Two resting marble dragon guardians flank the steps leading up to the doorway" of the sanctuary.

1. CHAMBER. OF. SECRETS.

2. Shouldn't the steps be going down?

More about me: "Blessings fly forth from the sovereign whose dominion is ruled by both strength and wisdom. (Clearly poem-me has been working out.) Her seat of power holds vast treasure whose beauty is beyond the ability of mortal tongue to describe."

I'm 99.9% sure that was a flowery way of saying my ass is fiiiiiiine.

Seat of power, my TUSH.

The concluding line about me and my Chamber of Secrets is "These will exist for all time in this land disturbed by nothing except a gentle breeze."

Oh, HELL no.

I'm a full grown, fully self aware, real, live woman. Things are going to disturb me because that's part of living. My own emotions are a tornado that whirl around and occasionally suck up cows. I live big, I love big, and I'm not afraid to weep openly in a movie theater. Gentle breezes are nothing compared to the roller coaster ride that is my life-and I adore it.

I feel bad for this guy. He has some weird concept of women that he thinks he should express through poetry. Other than the gentle breezes, nowhere does it seem to indicate that this guy realizes that women are people and people fart. People make mistakes and feel things way too deeply or not at all and often pick their own acne on shabbos and have 2 hour long diatribes about which way Robert Pattinson's hair looks the best.

Since this guy clearly has never had a significant conversation with a female with whom he does not share DNA, he has idolized us, made us mythical creatures, and approaches us from that perspective.

Honey, if I were an animal in the zoo, I'd be the squirrel that sneaks in to steal food and runs out before anything can eat me.

So, if you're looking to pick me up, I'd stay away from using poems, especially insane ones about people who do not exist anywhere.

Maybe just say hi?

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And then how much you make per year.

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