Take One For the Team

Oh, bother, I thought tiredly, as he squawked on the phone. He's one of those. 

The man-child in question was very obviously attempting to manipulate the situation that I should say no to a date, so that way he can go back to his sister and say, "It's not my fault. She didn't want to go out with me."

My dear boy, I'm better at this game than you. 

His sister and my brother are neighbors, and over a shared Shabbos meal she cooked up the idea that we should go out. My brother, stumped as to how to turn her down yet simultaneously maintain the family friendship, unconvincingly "sold" this Tuskan Raider to me. For the sake of keeping things pleasant along the borders, I agreed. 

Instead of being permitted to fall elegantly on my light saber, I had to grant this Sand Person all the accoutrements of being a stalked eligible. But no way was I going to get blamed with turning him down, so I feigned dimness as he tried every which way to get me to nix a date. Eventually, he set a reluctant day and time for our outing. 

I told myself to enjoy this from the elevated position of wry amusement. That was made slightly more difficult as he texted his arrival from his car. 

In my driveway. 

With no intention of coming to the door.

Older singles aren't "jaded." We're traumatized.