Call It Divine Intervention

No one would ever accuse me of being religious. I haven't stepped foot in a synagogue since my nephew's penile scalping over nine years ago - and unless his foreskin grows back, I don't see myself returning anytime soon. I believe in a higher power, just not one that meddles in the trivialities that comprise our daily lives. However, that belief was tested last night when I logged on to...dare I say it...the site that had been the bane of my existence for so long - the dating site every single heeb loves to hate. Though it felt like an eternity since I logged on, the old knot in the stomach returned seconds after I entered my email and password and hit the log in button. I saw some familiar faces. Some women that I remembered being my age last time I saw their pictures were now miraculously at least three years younger than me. There were others I'd never seen who looked pretty good in their pictures, but whose profiles read like they were written by lazy third-graders who were forced to write compositions about themselves by their substitute teachers. The days of the tired cliches have been replaced by twitter like essays - very short, uninteresting, and grammatically challenged. With the exception of the requisite non-Jews searching for their Jewish banker/lawyer/doctor husbands, the site still remains predominantly Jewish, and I felt like I was browsing the Emunah Women of America membership catalog. Most of the women looked like they just got off the Long Island Railroad, and I could almost hear the Fran Drescher-ish whine in their voices as I imagined them reading their profiles.

Somehow I managed to come across around a dozen women that I found interesting enough to email. I hot listed them and slowly and anxiously reached into my wallet. My American Express card sat on my desk as I scrolled my mouse over the words "Subscribe and Enjoy Jdating." I took a deep breath, but was unable to relax knowing that what I was about to embark upon would be anything but enjoyable. The odds of getting even one response from those 12 women were slim to none, and I knew I was about to spend the next thirty days glued to that goddamn site - the one I'd managed to stay away from for so long. I felt like a crackhead, who'd been clean for years, about to hand a wad of crinkled, dirty bills to a dealer on a street corner in exchange for a small rock that would ultimately cause me nothing but trouble. "Fuck it!" I said, as I let myself get taken in by the remote possibility that THIS time it might work. I clicked on the link that was to take me to the subscription page and then it happened - a truly religious experience.

A message telling me I had been infected by a virus popped onto the screen and my computer began scanning itself to remove the malicious threat. I knew the message itself and the resulting scanning were themselves viruses, but I was grateful. I "x"ed out the window warning me of the attack and immediately ran every anti-virus/spyware/malware program I had. My computer is safe and now so am I - from a month of despair, hopelessness, frustration and anger.

There was probably a virus sitting dormant on my hard drive that was triggered by something on Jdate, but I like to think that something or someone has a better plan for me.