In First Person – Personal ads: Single becomes a four-letter word, SWJP

SWJP, 27, 5'4" pretty face, Rosie O'Donnell personality. Size 8. From New York, into karaoke, Bette Midler, and swing music. Not into sports, sorry. Tennis. Maybe. You're 28-36, 5'10"+, handsome, fit, bright, Jewish, love Sinatra. And very, very funny with a personality to die for! Heartbreakers & shy men need not apply.

Granted, it's not very creative or inspiring or sexy, but it's to the point. This is who I am and this is who you should be. I don't know — it seems pretty black-and-white to me.

Maybe not. Here are the replies.

Moron No. 1: Uh hi, my name is Carlos (A nice Jewish boy?) and uh I saw your ad and I uh think we have a lot in common. Um, I'm into hiking, and camping, and skiing, and bike riding and mountain-climbing, and yeah, anything to do with the outdoors.

Maybe this guy thought that theater, karaoke and Bette Midler was really a code for "I'm really into outdoor activities so please call me with every one under the sun." I decided to have a little fun with Moron No. 1. "Hi Carlos? This is Hillary. You answered my ad?"

"Yeah, how you doin'?"

"Fine. So you think we have a lot in common, huh? Are you sure you answered the right ad? I talked about theater and karaoke. I really don't recall mentioning anything about all those outdoor festivities."

"You said that you were from New York, right?"

"Yes I did."

"Well, I guess we really don't have anything in common. I'm from Puerto Rico."

Moron No. 2: Hi Hillary, my name is Jeff and I'm really into baseball, hiking, bike riding, roller-blading, skiing, and football…I'd really like to hear from you so give me a call at 555-5555.

This one obviously grew up with Carlos, the genius.

Moron No. 3: Michael, 444-4444.

Gee, a real yapper. Obviously not much to go on here, but I did give him 10 points for articulation.

Moron No. 4: Hey, my name is Brad and I hate karaoke, and Bette Midler is really annoying, but I'm from the East Coast and I'm a Jewish professional and I'd like to meetcha.

Oh yes, I'm just running to the phone to call some schmuck who hates everything I'm passionate about. I just don't get these people. There must be over 100 ads placed by women in this paper and a huge handful of them are into sports and probably none of them come close to mentioning Bette Midler, The Queen of All Things, or God forbid singing in public, yet these men (for lack of a better word) seemed drawn to my unimaginative, bike-free, ski-free, and baseball-free ad. Let's continue:

Semi-moron No. 5: Hi my name is Norman. I'm 32, I'm a doctor, I live in the East Bay and I'm Jewish. I lead a very interesting lifestyle which I won't go into right now. I'm 6 feet tall with brown hair. So if you would like to know more give me a call.

A doctor? Would I like to know more? What nice Jewish girl from Long Island wouldn't call the doctor? So I call. Big mistake! The man had the personality of a piece of gum stuck at the bottom of your shoe. I think the good doctor missed the part of my ad about being very, very funny with a personality to die for. The whole time I was on the phone with him I was thinking, "This is absolute self-torture. He doesn't have my phone number to call me back so if I hang up on him right now, this torture could be over." So I did it. I hung up on the good doctor in mid-sentence. My mother, God rest her soul, is probably choking on a matzah ball over this one. Oh well, time to move on.

After the episode with the good doctor I decided that the personals were not for me right now and that I am just going to let fate do it's thing.

Enter fate: I meet this wonderful, wonderful man at, of all places, a Passover seder. He's everything I'm looking for and then some. He even asked for my phone number. There's just one slight problem, though. I'm still waiting for the phone call. Don't even get me started!