Late last year, I turned 18 and promptly joined Tinder and Bumble for the first time. Some of them will be the stereotypical NJB type β personality of a Golden Retriever, locks of a Sheepadoodle, and an unfortunate tendency to describe themselves in terms of dog breeds. And the answer to that, unfortunately, will be no. Up until this experience, I always thought that her joke was just that, a joke. True story. When the answers to my questions were none, none, and none, respectively, I was genuinely floored.
Wearing those God-awful Hanukkah-themed glasses in his first pic on Bumble, Eli was Jewish enough for the both of us and then some. He had lived in Ber Sheva up until the age of 5, when his dad decided to move their family over to Los Angeles. He volunteered often at the Simi Valley Chabad. We connected almost immediately, bonding over our shared love for male manipulator music and Adam Sandler movies.
He asked me on another park date the following week, and I readily agreed. I asked if he wanted to go to Ostrichland with me, an ostrich ranch in Solvang, and he agreed to drive us there that weekend. When I saw he was active on Instagram, I looked at the latest post on his account, where I saw the face of my old camp counselor smiling back at me. When I told her what happened, she proceeded to laugh for a minute straight until she saw the expression on my face.
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