Posts Tagged ‘arranging marriages

We’d left things with a decision to meet again, and a few weeks after our first meeting, I was going to be in DC for work. I planned on staying through the weekend and going to the company Christmas party, so I invited him. He’s officially gone to more of my company parties than people I actually work with.

He got there Saturday afternoon, and from Saturday to Sunday, when we weren’t talking about DC landmarks, we talked about work. Again and again and again. I was so bored I thought my eyes would roll out of my head.

I also decided I wasn’t going to bring up anything important – I wanted to see if he wanted to bring it up, or at least learn more about my past. I still have questions about his, and just generally, I wanted to see if we could have a relaxed conversation about all things in life.

Nope. We cannot.

We do similar work, so I understand why it’s an easy fallback, but really – I have more chemistry with Lincoln’s statue than I do with him. We don’t laugh a lot when we’re together, we don’t chat about anything of substance, and when we do, we don’t agree.

As we drove through DC, there was homeless outreach going on and I said something to the effect of “That’s so nice” and he said something to the effect of “They should get a job.”

I almost lost it. I did go off a bit on him about the reasons homelessness exist in this country and how there’s no safety net and how it’s so hard to get out of once you’re in it, but I don’t know that he cared. I also don’t think it makes him a bad person, but it’s not how *I* think. I told my parents he said that and even they were incredulous. My mom’s response was “What address would they even give for a job?” EXACTLY MOM.

Then, we had a ridiculous conversation about kids playing sports. I have to read up on kids/sports/injuries for work and said that with all the information coming out around TBI (traumatic brain injury) and CTE (chronic traumatic encephalopathy) I wouldn’t want my nieces or nephews playing a sport where the potential long term effects aren’t known yet, or they’re known but aren’t widely studied. You only have one brain, man. Keep it as sharp as you can for as long as you can. That’s my take.

His take was, “Well, I wouldn’t say no if my kid wanted to play. It’s their choice.”

My response to that was, “That’s why you’re the parent. Because you’re supposed to know better than a 7 year old.”

When I mentioned this to some friends, their response was, “Yeah, that’s why you see kids of these FOB parents running around all over the place with no discipline!”

And they’re right. There’s a fundamental difference that I can’t pinpoint, but even my sister’s seen it – she has fobby friends who are very sweet, but the kids, who were born here. OMG. Hellions. No structure, no guidance, no bedtimes, no nothing… they do whatever they want. And it’s an epidemic.

Anyway, he dropped me at the airport. Had our awkward side hug (oh, he stayed in the hotel room next to me. Not even a kiss goodnight after the party.) to say goodbye.

Since then? No calls. Just stupid texts: “How you doing? How’s work? My work is busy.”

I’m pretty much done and just need to call it. I think he is too. But I also think we have zero other options. BLAH.


A few months ago, my cousin introduced me to a new guy: me and this guy are the same age, we do extremely similar work, and we’re the same type of Indian. Basically on paper it looks like a match. I said I’d talk to him, even knowing he’s divorced (really, being divorced doesn’t bother me, but I do want to know why the marriage didn’t work.)

So we started chatting on the phone. The same inane conversations I always have with these guys: “So, how’s work? What’d you do for dinner? Do you like to cook? What kind of food do you like to make?”

The usual interview questions for the position of wife and CEO of the household.

But, he did seem genuinely nice and it’s not like I’m getting any younger, so I agreed to meet him. We hadn’t talked about ANYTHING important on the phone, but he offered to come down and visit me and we agreed on last weekend.

And, to his credit, before coming down, he even made dinner reservations on Saturday night at a super swanky place I’d been wanting to try. Initiative!

And, also to his credit, I took him to a work party after I picked up him from the airport (yup, our first time meeting in person and the first activity was with 20 coworkers) and he did great! He was nice and chatty. Friendly!

And, also also to his credit, he paid for everything all weekend. He even tried to buy me a piece of art I spotted in downtown though I wouldn’t let him. I offered to pay each time, since he flew down and had to get a hotel room too, but he wouldn’t let me. He even brought me earrings as a birthday gift. Generous!

So even with all these great things, he is FOB and with being a FOB comes the FOB love.

FOB love is what me and my friends call the overbearing, overwhelming, almost desperate behavior of Indian guys (from India) when it comes to women. There is no playing it cool or any games, which is great, but there is this never ending barrage of trying to help when no help is needed, or thinking that just buying things makes a relationship.

I sound like a bitch, which I am, but there’s no way to explain how irritating this is because it sounds great, right? Like who doesn’t want a guy that’s so concerned and helpful and generous? But it can be so smothering.

There were a lot of little things, but the best example is when I was dropping him off at the airport on Sunday. I was chatting about flying for Thanksgiving and how I thought ticket prices would be expensive and out of nowhere, he goes, “I have like 50,000 skymiles I’m not using. You can have them.”

My response: “Um… no. Look, we’re not dating. We’re not anything. We just met for the first time. I don’t want your skymiles, I have my own. I appreciate it, but no.”

I know that I sound ungrateful. But here’s the problem: I think he thinks buying me things (dinners, birthday gift, lunches, offering me skymiles) makes a relationship. It doesn’t.

We only talked ONCE about his divorce, and that’s because I brought it up. And of course, everything he said blamed her. Which, maybe it was mostly her fault, but as my mom says, “it takes two hands to clap.” I just never heard what the other hand did.

And we wouldn’t even have had that conversation if it was up to him. We didn’t talk about any other relationships (mine or his); we didn’t talk about sex; we didn’t talk about friends; we didn’t talk about family; we didn’t talk about anything of fucking substance. He has no idea about my past. And I don’t know about his. So I don’t want to be treated like a girlfriend when we’re not even really friends.

We chatted again today and it was the same stupid shit. “How was your day? What’s for dinner? Are you ready to travel?” It’s like the conversation never moves forward.

But that said, I did tell him that I thought we should meet again because I had more questions for him and he should have questions for me.

So we’re going to get together in a few weeks again.

Stay tuned….








So last week, Thursday, I called home and my mom gave me an email address from a matrimonial ad in the paper. It was the usual, “40 year old doctor, innocently divorced, seeking suitable match.”

Mom says:

“Make sure you right today. It’s Thursday – it’s a good day.”

As soon as she said that, all I could think was how does she still believe??? I sent my med school applications on a ‘good day’, I’m not a doctor. I have sent countless emails to these guys on ‘good days,’ I’m not married yet. I’ve done so many things on ‘good days’ and it doesn’t fucking matter one single iota.

But she does believe, and so I emailed this innocent divorcee on a good day, knowing full well I’ll never hear back.

She asked me today if I got an email back and I kind of giggled and said,

“No Mommy. There’s not going to be one.”

And she let out this heavy sigh and goes,

“Why are they so dumb? Why do they put an ad in the paper if they don’t really want to write to anyone? They should AT LEAST write back and say they’re not interested.”

Yes! I agree! Be slightly professional about it! I mean, I seriously doubt this dude is getting so many flipping emails that he can’t keep up. But what I do think is probably happening is that he is getting at least a few responses from women that are 10-15 years younger than me, and that’s probably more appealing than a 38 year old.

Even though I would be a suitable match.



So there was all this flurry of activity of a potential new match: Doctor, divorced, same age as me, etc etc. The usual.

Dad sends me an email telling me to ask around to see if any of my friends know him. Mom calls his mom directly. The conversation they had follows:

My Mom (giving some information): She was born in ’77.

His mom (being a bitch): Oh, we’re looking for someone who’s 30 or 31.

My Mom (being awesome): Ok, good luck. Bye. *CLICK*

MOM HUNG UP ON THIS WOMAN!!! This woman who thinks her doctor son, who has a child, is going to trap some young babe into marrying him. Which, who knows, maybe he will. Who cares? Not me.

Mom then tells me, “Yeah, he plays cricket, which I thought was weird for a boy born here, so I wanted to make sure about some things.” And then she laughs and says, “They’re stupid.”

She totally listened to all the clues and did her research!!! I am so proud!

Meanwhile, any boy’s mom who says “WE” are looking for someone definitely means that I am not the someone who they’re looking for. Single is better than trapped.




So a couple of months back my parents found this guy somehow and I ended up chatting with him on whatsapp. Without further ado, let the texts speak for themselves:


Text1 Text2 Text3 Text4 Text5


Why did it take me so long to post these?  I was just so annoyed. SO ANNOYED.

Asshole basically called me a judgmental gold digger.

I told my parents the story and had more than a high pitched voice and was telling them how awful he was, and my dad just goes:

Why are you getting all upset? Just don’t talk to him.

Which made me laugh because that was what I was going to do anyway, but I was all prepped for a fight with them about how I had to keep trying and how he probably wasn’t so bad but no.

Even they’ve given up hope now.

Dad even said,

If he texts you again, just tell him that he can’t start a relationship on the wrong foot. The ship already sailed!

Mixed metaphor, but yes, he’s right.

Luckily, I never heard from this douche again.





Fuck  my life.

No, actually, fuck my non existent love life.  The rest of my life is fine, fun even. But the romance department? Just ugh.

I’ve been semi-talking to this doctor that my parents introduced me too. We’ve had a hard time connecting with schedules that are pretty opposite, but recently we’ve been able to chat.

On Monday, we talked for a bit but he was on call and also getting his dad’s new phone set up, so we kept it short – he got a couple of calls from the answering service and then got to his dad’s place, so needed to go. No big deal.

Wednesday we talked for about 10 minutes. In those 10 minutes, he apologized MULTIPLE times for  (1) it having been so hard to catch each other and (2) for having to put me on hold a few times on Monday. He started with an apology. Midway he provided another apology. He ended with TWO apologies.


Which… I finally said. Not so meanly, but firmly.  I guess he’s trying to be nice/polite, but CLEARLY he doesn’t know who he’s talking to. Treat me like shit and I’ll be so much more captivated. (Sadly only semi-joking about that.)

Also in those 10 minutes, he told me how his nephew called him bald. Except the story wasn’t that short. FIRST I had to listen to where the kid’s car seat was positioned in the car. WHO CARES. WHO FUCKING CARES. And then I had to hear how his nephew ‘cutely’ asked him, “Why is your hair running away?”

….. I don’t think he’s lying, but who the hell is his nephew? Is he taking lessons from Michelle on Full House?

AND THEN. THEN…. to cap off this entire conversation (which has so far been apologies and weird kid stories), he was doing laundry and says, “Oh wow. I just noticed I had on two different colors of beige socks today!”

Beige socks.

Fuck my love life.





So, I mistakenly told my parents about this Indian guy, a friend of the family, who’s dating an Australian girl.

Fast forward to breakfast at my aunt’s house, where for some reason, I go to have my tea and they’re discussing this guy. I sit down to eat toast, drink tea, read the paper, and get bombarded with this from Dad:

“See, he’s dating an Australian girl because you didn’t try hard enough. You didn’t take the chance.”


“What? I seriously just woke up.”

Him – just being repetitive:

“You could’ve dated him, but instead now he’s got to date an Australian.”


Ok, first of all, Dad says all this like it’s a downgrade – like this guy just cried himself to sleep one night because I turned him down and then threw himself at the first white girl he saw, who just happened to have an awesome accent to boot.


HE! THIS GUY! HE was the one who said no to me (not directly to me, but to all our friends who tried to set us up.) What was I supposed to do? Force him to date me? Stalk him?

So I tell/yell at Dad:

“DAD! I tried to date him! HE DIDN’T WANT TO. WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO? AND WHY ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THIS ANYWAY?!   It takes two people! And he didn’t want to date me.”

I mean, it’s irritating enough that I wasn’t what he wanted, but fine, I get it…. but then I have to hear from my parents that it could’ve been me? NO, IT COULD NOT HAVE.  (Although, I love their faith that I hold all this control which I really don’t have).


On a separate but related note, I found out that these two are getting married. I’m not surprised, but I have to say I was upset. I’m not exactly sure why? It’s not like I wanted him, but I guess it’s more that he didn’t want me. Although, it’s also no surprise that he put more effort into and was not going to let go of a doctor…. But I still don’t understand how she got over all those issues that I couldn’t? The lack of focus, the lack of a real job, the lack of a life plan? Maybe it’s easier because she’ll financially be able to cover them if she needs to? Or maybe I couldn’t get past all that and see everything else he could offer, which was probably more than he couldn’t.


Nothing seems to be enough anymore.


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