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Off with their heads!!

No, no, wait! That’s not right.

Let the best man win!!

Much better…. Because that’s what jousting is all about even when the game is a game of love?

But it makes me wonder.  Does the best man ever win in the game of love?

So here is where my latest game of love started.

Over the weekend I found myself sitting in Ein Kerem, with one of my close girlfriends, drinking my cosmopolitan, eating oily, cheesy gourmet pizza and feeling like life couldn’t get much better than this: a small piece of heaven.  All of a sudden we notice a male friend of hers across the street. We go over to say hi, flirt a bit, and then return to our table to finish our crucial girl talk and our yummy food.

After we finish our earth shattering conversation about…stuff, which concludes with the fact that all men suck, we go to join “those that suck” across the way. Ok, maybe not all men suck. Both of them are cute, funny and intelligent guys. One is a lawyer, we’ll call him Dudu, and the other a runner (like me) we’ll call him Shuki. Both are fathers, divorced and living in the Jerusalem area. Both gainfully employed, over the age of 35 and not bad looking at all. This is a momentous occasion. I think they even both have hair. No, on second thought, they don’t. But what’s all the fuss about hair anyways.

We sit and chat and have a grand old time soaking up those rare spring rays of sun, knowing that soon the sun will set and the Jerusalem night chill will force us all to bundle up on and head back to our cars.  Out of the blue the lawyer Dudu turns to me and says, “Isn’t my friend Shuki great? Why don’t you guys go out?”

So of course both Shuki and I both blush, knowing full well that we will probably do just that even if his directness caught me off guard. Damn that directness. I love it.

Later on that evening we all act surprised when we become friends on Facebook (oh, are you on Facebook too?) since that’s just the polite thing to do. Now as “friends”, we start to fan our feathers, strut around, chat, and check out each other’s online profiles.

But it doesn’t end there.

Dudu continues the dialogue with me and continues to promote the possibility of a date with his friend Shuki. Truthfully, if Dudu were the head of a PR company, his friend would have hit Platinum record sales by now.

So Dudu and I continue to chat. We continue to laugh. And then the first compliment slips out: Devora, you are a great girl. A true sport.

Thanks. I chuckle, not sure if he meant just that and only that.

The ménage a trois of chatting and flirting continued on until the inevitable first date is presented.

Or should I say dates.

Both Dudu and Shuki decided to ask me out knowing full well that this was some kind of a competition between them.

I believe in honesty. I let them both know that they are both vying for my heart, or at least a cup of coffee. Mind you, I just don’t have enough room in my five-seater Mazda so I guess I better decide on one.

I think my subconscious was looking for a mischievous adventure and so within the span of two hours I had succeeded in inviting them both to join me at the same place on Thursday night where I was hanging out with my friends. Right then I felt like a princess sitting up in the spectators’ booth watching both knights charging each other simply to win my love.

I would hope that modern day love would have a happier ending than the brutal and deathly end that gladiators meet.  Because love is different today so why not be easy on myself and go with the flow. Don’t know if the traditional approach still works the way it used to (if it really ever did work or just existed) and love isn’t what we grew up watching in fairy tales.

Because love is whatever works.

P.S. Shuki won…for now