Yenta is “touched”, or has lost her “touch”…

Rumpole has ordered me to take down my matchmaking shingle. That latest foray into connecting single souls has been an utter failure. Sparks, Nada! Entertainment for all of the four of us… yes, in a queer sort of way. It has taken me four weeks to come to grips with horrible reality of it all.

Luck would have it, Our Lady of Perpetual Crisis still talks to me and visits chez nous. However, she has said that I am hapless and not very good at this matchmaking business. She did say that she enjoyed the evening dinner with us and Rob, and that the food was delicious and the conversation…surprisingly entertaining. But she made pointed comments about Rob’s sartorial elegance, comparing his attire a cross between Don Ho and one of the Darryl Brothers (as in, “Howdy, My name is Darryl, and this here is my other brother, Darryl”).

Picky, picky OLPC. What did she expect, someone out of Gentleman’s Quarterly Magazine? But then, should I take her comments about stylishness to heart? She, who breezed in looking a bit like a dominatrix, all form-fitting black with what looked like chains strong enough to restrain a 100 pound Rottweiler hefting up her lush triple-Ds and snaking around her shoulders? I had to keep kicking Rumpole under the table to prevent him from gazing at her prominent poitrine. Poor Rob, he with the quaint old-fashioned mannerisms and attitudes, didn’t seem to know where to look.

But mercifully, they did get along well enough to make fine conversation. Whilst choking back the schnitzel, the flatulence inducing cabbage, roast potatoes and pickled beets OLPC did manage to put questions to Rob about his life, his grown children, his confirmed and adamant solitary state. Oddly enough, Rob, shy generally and not a man of many words, opened up and went into considerable detail about his life and experiences. The torrent of interesting information had the effect of open-mouthed fascination on Rumpole. OLPC didn’t miss a trick.
She would be a smooth and clever interrogator in Gauntanamo. And all that without the aid of extremely bright lights and water-torture devices. Under her subtle questioning Ron revealed things about himself, as pertaining to his most recent relationship, that should not be even mentioned in a session with a relationship counsellor, let alone at a matchmaking dinner. I was aghast at what my well-intentioned soiree had unleashed.

During dinner, we discussed politics, religion, the arts, the new Conservativism, the environment, economics and yes, modern sexual behaviour. As a case study, OLPC, brought up her friend, Cowtown Donna’s difficulties at negotiating the relational quagmire prevailing among middle-aged divorced singles. As she asked all of our opinions as to what was proper etiquette among dating senior singles, Rob nervously wrapped the linen table napkin around his left hand, much like a bandage, and punctuated his comments by tugging the ends closed to choke his fist. That sure was an indication of his extreme discomfort with the conversational vein.

As hostess, I tried to steer the conversation to less discomforting topics – like Municipal shenanigans and “what about our dorky Mayor saying…”. Mercifully, the time passed quickly, although neither OLPC nor Rob showed the slightest indication of wanting to take their leave. Were they having that much fun? Certainly they laughed a lot. Rob tugged on his napkin bandage a lot… but was that in fun, or just out of sheer nervousness? It was really weird!

Because it was a Sunday evening, and everyone had to be up early the next morning, Rumpole did last call. He said. “All right all of you. Tomorrow is a workday. We have 15 minutes before I kick you guys out. Because I am 65 years old I need my sleep.”

I poured more tea for us all. OLPC and Rob left afterward, both at the same time. I looked out the back window and watched them exchange a few words before they hopped in their vehicles and drove off.

Rumpole’s comment to me as he went off to “dusterize” was. “Well, that was a bust as far as those two matching up. But by God! It was a most enjoyable evening.”

All I can say now, is that even though I am a failure at matching people up romantically, at least I have the wherewithal to pull disparate characters together for an evening of lively exchange and some stimulating conversation. And although OLPC and Rob did not form a firm friendship or demonstrate romantic chemistry toward each other, whenever they meet casually in our little town, they will at least have the basis for polite casual conversation with each other.
And, most amazingly, they both still are talking with me, even if it is to mention that I should give up trying to match them up with anyone, ever again. Yeah! I’m a failed Hungarian Yenta.

10 Responses to “Yenta is “touched”, or has lost her “touch”…”

  1. Trish Scott Says:

    Oh dear G! Wish I had been there. Laughed out loud all the way from here.

    • suburbanlife Says:

      Trish – it is fun to have quirky individuals in one’s life, but, have to admit my matchmaking skills are not up to snuff. I do think this is a call for me to take down my sign and burn it. G

  2. canadada Says:

    …. nice try … thing is, one never really KNOWS what makes a ‘match’ except for the two match-inatin’ …

    Carry on Geronimo! Keep ’em circulating! Like Roulette, something will ‘click’ and then WOW! you’ll be eternally remembered for cranking the wheel …

    I have the good fortune to have done this for my cousin. She and I had gotten together for a birthday drink, and I decided, last minute, to include a ‘male friend’ who was a loose ends and also celebrating a birthday in the same month. Well, no sooner were we settled when the two of them started ‘flashing’. Sparks here, flame there, (Aries don’t you know…), huffing and puffing. I thought FOR SURE that that little get-together glass-raising episode was a ‘bust’. BUT, 15 years later they are STILL together … huffing & puffing … and they still ‘blame’ me for it! 🙂

    • suburbanlife Says:

      Canadada – about the only sparks that flew at my little soiree were the ones from my lighter, when in between courses I hid out and lit up a cigarette to take a break from weirdness. i pass my torch onto you – tou are obviously “da Yenta Bomb”! G

  3. dowhatyoulove Says:

    Love your writing! You bring the evening to life, so that we all may enjoy the uniqueness of it all. OLPC sounds like a hoot of a lady, with endless entertaining personality traits (not to mention dress code). I look forward to reading more stories.

    • suburbanlife Says:

      Dowhatyoulove – you might have handled the whole happening with more grace. I am still smarting from this failure. But hey, those two are still talking to me, so that’s a huge plus. G

  4. The Querulous Squirrel Says:

    This is so hilarious. I am trying to picture the chains and can only come up with the most comically bizarre images. The idea of this dominatrix cross-examining at Guantanamo and this meek man opening up to her as if she were a relationship counselor at a large dinner table is surreal. I’m so glad you finally revealed the outcome of what sounds like a very successful social event if not a match made in in heaven.

    • suburbanlife Says:

      G – I am so glad to be able to provide you some laughs. Maybe soon. i will have more to report about the breast lofting chains. You see, OLPC has decided i need better bras, new glasses,…in other words she has decided to make me her little makeover project. Next week is going to be bra fitting and shopping excursions. I’ll get me some chains, but appropriate chains for little old ladies, Yes!!! G

  5. christine Says:

    Don’t give up, Yenta! You never know. Maybe the two of them will see each other and decide to act on their inner impulses. Our Lady sounds like a real firecracker.

  6. suburbanlife Says:

    Christine – OLPC is always full of surprises – a real pistol – and such pleasure to count as a friend; but Rob is acting fearful of me lately, so maybe he didn’t really enjoy that evening so much in spite of seeming to. I have had my lack of matchmaking success hit me squarely in the face with these two, and shall force myself to desist from such future activity ( until I just can’t help myself ) G

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