Wrong Number

'You can never fake chemistry'

I still cannot get around the reality on being asked out for a coffee by a seemingly eligible Mr Restaurateur, the lust of many. I thought I will mind the equality of our height, I tried my best to be mature about it. For once, I stopped thinking of Ethan - my missed flight.

He had a bottle of sparkling water and I had a cup of English breakfast tea with a splash of milk, as if I've never left home.

'How did we meet again?' He sat comfortably and confidently.

'At your restaurant, I was dining and we chatted up. And you warmed up to me when a great grandfather of mine was a possible Jewish man.' Thus I know I wanted nothing to do with him as he is technically married, and separated in practice. Though what I didn't tell him is that I was told about this handsome Israeli and it made me curious.

'Conversion to Judaism was one of our topics, thus this is expected.'

He didn't say much, and truly religion is something I don't want to be talking about when I'm feeling a bit turned on. The thrill of a first date. An impromptu one, no less.

'Where in London do you come from again? I have a cousin, and a sister in law living in Golders Green. I lived there for five years, and I hate it.' He opened up.

'Camden, but not in the town. Borough of Camden, though in Russell Square.'

Then suddenly another minute of silence.

There wasn't any spontaneity between us, no spark and no chemistry.

The boredom of the moment made me think of Ethan, that if anything, never waste an opportunity especially when you meet someone whom you have natural connection.

I thought silently, 'this experience is not new to me. Flashback 2011, this date happened with this bald unattractive guy from Match.com. The date was boring such as this with Yoni, it ended only after half an hour of putting up with the lacklustre chemistry and silence in between. A silence that isn't awkward, but a silence of just have nothing to discuss about but also not wanting to leave the date just yet - lasy minute stroke of luck. It is those dates that makes you think of the other fishes left in the sea - across all spectrum, the good, the bad, and the ugly. Even though his bald and unattractive, his strong presence always kept that memory alive - as he is the first, the first date with a man who isn't much to look at. As it was my first date with someone who's the opposite of my type. Seriously, I wouldn't date a bald man. And years after of more experiences, I should already graduate of being shallow and immature about the slight imperfections of men, goodness. Maybe I should give him a text... maybe... who knows. I'm very sure he had forgotten about me, I was very unimpressive at the time, twenty two and naive.'

'You can never fake chemistry,' Mr Restaurateur said.

'No shit,' I confidently said affirming his word.

However, looking at the other tables surrounding us. I hear a local woman with a laugh coming from the throat, and a smile without squinting the eyes, I can hear fakery. A seduction of the poor German guy victim or someone European.

'This is exactly why I'm lonely here Yonatan,' I gave him an eye contact and towards to the other table.

'Oh, and?' He enquired, not getting the full picture.

'Many women can fake the chemistry. Where else will fake orgasm come from?'

His iris dilated, 'women here treat me like a superman. That's why I like it here.'

I crinkled my nose and, to be transparent. I knew Mr Restaurateur will never get me, as I know my value. I no longer wonder why he loves Manila.

'Where are your parents and family anyway? My wife and my kids are in Israel, I visit them during Hanukkah.' Yonatan still hasn't given up hope to liven up the conversation.

'My dad's British so he's in London. I grew up with him. My mum is American living in West Coast.'

'I can understand why you're lonely here. Women must envy you. Men must be intimidated. For a woman like you, your standards must be high.' He at least gave a good insight.

'I had to be.'

'You should at least try a bit,' his suggestion didn't go well.

'In Israel I'm just a mediocre guy, just another Jew, just another man. Here I'm a superman.'

I smiled out of politeness, and I thought if we are right now in Israel - this date would never happen, as I'd be with Ethan or perhaps another mind stimulating Jewish man.

Our date adjourned.

As I walked back it was already almost sunset a day before Shabbat, and I found myself in tears, because the truth makes us cry that's why tears are for the strong. Fake laughs are for the weak.

My tears are the regret of falling for a fake man, Darrell. The regret of not taking Ethan's hands that afternoon of Passover that coincided with Easter Sunday - it doesn't happen often, it felt as if I met my soulmate. It is not every day, you just get to be your true self.

I knew I should ask the Rabbi again, for the second time, otherwise if the moment passes by I may regret it again - and regrets take time to get over.