Shidduch Suicide

Let's set the stage.

I spent shabbos at my married brother's house, but he had a number of other guests, and he didn't have room in his house for me, so I slept at a neighbor. After the meal, and the requisite polite chit chat with my family, I was glad to escape to the neighbor. I smiled smugly as I looked at my watch. I was mentally calculating what 12 hours of sleep would do to my energy level the next day.

Turns out I was a little hasty. I knocked on the door of the neighbor's house, and she came to the door. It was obvious that she felt pretty awkward at that point. I'm not sure why people always feel compelled to strike up conversations out of politeness, but that's precisely what she did.

There isn't much you can ask a frum single girl, especially one you don't really know, so she started with a quick "what do you do?" And that is how I came to be speaking to one of the world's most Perfect people. When I say perfect, I mean one of those sickening species who manage to look like a model in a shabbos robe and a pre-tied tichel.

When I found out that she was a sheitel macher, things got even more interesting. We started discussing my hair, which is, as you may recall, one of my favorite features. She must have been one of those girls who got married straight out of seminary, because she was overly concerned about my hair-ironing habits. If I thought she was concerned when I said I've never used bio-silk- EVER, that was NOTHING compared to our next exchange.

"Well, I don't have to worry about it too much, I rarely ever iron my hair." She wasn't convinced. "But even just for weddings and things, your hair could get ruined from the iron." I smiled smugly back at her, "yeah, but I only wear my hair down to weddings if it's a really close friend. If not, I just wear it in a pony."

That's the point at which I was very happy that she was sitting throughout our conversation, as falling flat on the floor from shock would have probably been pretty bad for her Perfection. It took her a minute to recompose herself and answer. "But you can't! That goes against ALL the rules!" She saw I wasn't convinced, so she went on. "Seriously, you aren't allowed to wear a pony to weddings, you are in shidduchim!"

I have to say I pitied her at that point. She didn't know that she was talking to SD, a cruel and heartless blogger who not only prides herself on breaking rules, but also plans posts in which she bashes the person she is talking to - even as they are talking! And so as she went on, and I wrote my post in my head, we discussed the rules, and which are the worst to break.

And because Mrs. Rule-Follower is a Perfect hostess, and I got a great night's sleep in an awesome bed, I now have a moment to think about this rule-breaking, something the Perfect People would probably call "Shidduch Suicide", otherwise known rather proudly, (by weird Internet folks,) as Bad For Shidduchim. Call it club initiation, call it embarrassing, but either way, I'm wondering; what rules do you consider "unbreakable"?