I have an idea for a novel: It was a dark and stormy night. Two girls, who were worried about the impending shidduch crisis, were driving to a Chanukah party, and their tire was punctured and ran flat. A boy, on his way to do some Black Friday shopping, and wearing a colored shirt and jeans comes to the aid of the two. He fixes their tire, makes small talk, coyly trying to make sure that they are close to his age, or perhaps even older, in order to make a shidduch, yet not exacerbate the age gap. The boy was well-reared by his parents, and did not wish that any girl be frozen or excluded from marrying on his account.
While fixing the tire, he got a grease stain on his velvet kippah. He tried to blot the stain with a recent, thick copy of Hamodia, preferring not to use the more effective blotter of the New York Post, due to its inappropriate content.
He had been previously engaged, to a girl five years younger, but there had not been a tenoyim, and they had parted amicably. Their aunts, who had redt the original shidduch, were still friendly.
One of the girls had an uncle who was entering the hospital shortly, in a distant town. She wanted to ask the boy if he knew of a bichur holim in that area, since the boy seemed to have a lot of such knowledge.
Suddenly, his cell phone rings. He had forgotten to turn it off since, of course, this was not a date. It is his best friend, who IS on a date, and was discussing Shalos Seudot recipes with the girl, and wanted help remembering a cheesecake recipe for some delicious parve cheesecake they had eaten the week before. . . . .
Note to publishers: This is just an outline, I am still working on it.