Match-Making Episodes – Part 3 of 4
Blasts from the Past Posts

Match-Making Episodes – Part 3 of 4

  • Post category:Family

Originally published in Pre-Upgrade Sally in the Zen 2010-2011

If you haven’t caught up with the match-making drama, here’s Part Two.

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Match-Make #2:

Zen Master was going through our family photo album, randomly holding up pictures of family and history when I walked into the room.

“We have too many old pictures of you in here.  Do you have anything current I can look at?”

My antenna went up and began to buzz.  “Why?”

“I just need a current picture of you.”  Zen Master was still shuffling through the album. 

“Why?”

“Because I need it, that’s why!”  He snarked at me, completely irritated.  “I want to give it to someone because they have someone who may be interested in meeting you.  That’s all!  What’s the big deal?”

“Whenever I give you good pictures of me, I never get them back.  And why am I meeting someone’s someone?  Is he another green card?”  (Green card = foreign person wanting American citizenship.)

“Of course he is!”  He looked at me expectantly.  “Well, are you going to get them for me?”

We go through this rigmarole with the pictures each time he is contacted with new people for me to meet.  He and Zen Mum usually agree to these things in hopes that maybe I’ll meet someone worthwhile, but I never believed in it.  I usually went along for the ride just to humor them.

But I always lose my pictures.

So at the designated time and place, we met the extended family of the fella who was interested in coming to America.  He, like match-mate #1, resided in China, but he knew rudimentary English and was a computer technician.  They took my pictures from Zen Master and gave me the fella’s email address.

So I emailed him to say hi.

Hate to say this, but in the spirit of keeping it real, it needs to be said. 

I couldn’t understand his emails.  There were misspellings and grammatical errors left and right.  And as delicately as I could, I would ask him to clarify his previous emails.  That seemed to set him off, but I couldn’t honestly tell because I still couldn’t understand a word he was conveying.

And that was the end of that.  I stopped emailing him, and he with me.

And I still never got my pictures back.