Dating is tough. Anyone who’s been out there in the dating world knows all too well that finding Mr. Right is a daunting task. So, you could imagine my surprise last week when I, Dean, was asked out by a handsome Jewish doctor by the name of Doogie Steinberg. (Note: Doogie Steinberg is not this doctor’s real name but rather a carefully selected name that I have chosen for him in order to help conceal his true identity.)

I met Doogie online a few weeks ago and knew immediately upon viewing his photos (and reading his online profile) that he was “the one”. I mean how could he not be? He was a great looking Jew and a doctor! (Of course it also didn’t hurt that Doogie was a lot taller than the average 5’9″ Jewish man.) Without a doubt, this “doc-tah” was a keeper that was never to be parted with.

There’s not much more that a girl could ever want in a husband than a Jew/Doctor all rolled into one. As a non-certified dating advice expert, I can assure you that pretty much every single girl out there dreams of someday marrying a Jewish doctor. So I’m sure that you could imagine my sheer excitement when I received an email from the doctor asking me out on a date. I announced to my entire workplace that afternoon that I had finally found my match; my Mr. Right. The wedding planning was already in full-force before the date with the doctor ever even began. It was to be a Napa wedding with the best white Costco sheet cake that the doctor’s money could ever buy.

I figured, before my date with Doogie, that even if he turned out to be a little weird (or wore bad jeans) that I would still be able to live with all these things. After all, none of this small stuff really matters when you come across an eligible, single, Jewish doctor to date. At the end of the day, the prestigious doctor title always trumps everything else in the quest for love. Jewish doctor means so many things to a single girl. It means smarts, lots of money, an excellent care-giver, and most importantly it means someone who can actually afford to buy his own washer and dryer.

Doogie and I agreed to meet at a quaint little wine bar in my neighborhood for our first date. Since I already knew that he was “the one”, I made sure to look especially good that night. I applied a fresh coat of makeup and slipped into my most flattering belted sweater dress before walking out the door for what I assumed would be my very last night as a single girl in the city. Dean was looking and feeling amazing that night. She was more than ready to meet her future Jewish doctor husband. And as she walked toward the wine bar, she couldn’t help but to imagine the huge sparkling diamond ring that Doogie would soon be putting on her finger…in a few short months time…

I walked into the wine bar where I immediately spotted my future husband, Doogie Steinberg, seated at a table toward the back of the room. He was quite handsome and my nervousness started to settle-in as I walked toward him. As I slowly made my way to him, my nerves were suddenly overpowered by his scent. Or perhaps a better word to describe it; his stench. The hot Jewish doctor turned out to be quite smelly. It was his breath. My future husband, Doogie Steinberg, was suffering from a horrible case of halitosis. And my dream of the wedding in Napa with the Costco sheet cake was quickly turning into a non-reality.

The smell was overwhelming to say the least. I reached out one hand to shake his hand and tried my best to cover my nose with my free hand. I wanted to offer him a breath mint, or run, or do anything just to make the smell go away. But there was nothing I could do. I had already committed to our date and Dean is no date dumper. So I did what anyone else would do who was in my shoes and started to ask Doogie for all sorts of medical advice…and for prescriptions to all of my favorite medicines that had expired. After all, he may have not been my future husband but he still was a practicing licensed doctor. Dean saw this as an opportunity to take full advantage of.

I somehow managed to survive my scented date with Doogie. As I talked to him that night all about my medical history I sadly watched my dream of the Napa wedding slowly begin to fade away into the darkness of my once again broken heart. At the end of the night, I walked into my empty apartment, and sat on the foot of my bed alone with only my thoughts. And that’s when I realized that sometimes finding true love really does stink.