Basheret? (translation: fate?)

Back story part 1: When I was on vacation, I needed a place to stay for Shabbat between the end of the cruise (returned to Miami Friday morning) and going to My Sister's house (in the Palm Beach area sometime after Shabbat)--My Sister being not observant. Thanks to Facebook, though not without a remarkable amount of stress, a friend of mine introduced me to a guy she had met via one of the orthodox online dating sites. We'll call him George. (I realize that this is a departure from my usual descriptive naming system. If I were to call him "The Guy", what would happen when/if there is a Guy 2 or Guy 3? Hence, George.) George searched out friends of his who I could stay with. Miami Mentsches were fabulous. Anyway, George came for Shabbat dinner where I met him, then we chatted after services on Saturday morning, and I went to his apartment where he taught me how to play chess on Saturday afternoon.

Okay, George introduced. Now on to back story 2: When I was in college, I went to see a movie that I loved. I told my at-the-time boyfriend that it might have displaced the movie at the top of my favorite movies list. Then I saw reviews of the movie. Pretty much NO ONE liked it. And thus was my introduction to the reality that I just have bad taste in movies. (I love shlock, anything that makes me cry...) What was the movie? Patch Adams. Remember this, because it plays an important role in the actual story of this post.

George called me this evening. (Yay!) Among other things we talked about, he said that he is looking for smart people to watch a movie that's out right now (A Serious Man) so that he has someone to talk about the movie with. I responded that I should probably NOT see it, then, because then he would be disabused of the notion that I'm smart. This led to a discussion about insecurity (hi, that would be me) and my confession that I have bad taste in movies. I told him that I realized this after I saw a movie that I thought was great but that only got bad reviews, and I really like movies that make me cry. (Sound familiar?) To which he responded something to the effect of "sounds like Patch Adams." Woah. Keep in mind that Patch Adams is 10 years old. And that was his first thought? Kuh-crazy.

It's basheret.