High atop the endangered species list is “the nice Jewish boy,” and though urban legend speaks of its existence, I’m beginning to doubt the myth. Every time I venture into the wide world of dating, I attract the one boy lacking in the aforementioned qualities. Either he’s from Montana, Georgia, Virginia or even Canada or he hails from Hell. Without the accompaniment of a little six-pointed silver star. In the same manner that Weho has perfected the homo-gaydar, my Jewdar needs some work. The handy little device is helpful in differentiating marked male models from acceptable dating material and the lack there of with its ability to shout out which among the group of boisterous Hollyweird boys is among the chosen. Said handy dandy device is instrumental in targeting the relationship worthy among a sea of spiritually-spawned scenesters and their less inconspicuous counter parts. In the future, I hope to upgrade my male magnet from the meek male attraction to a highly specialized grade “A” targeting system in which one can count on the ability to leave a location after having met a boy in possession of the right religious requirement. Until said software is available – I’ll be hiding under a rock – hibernating through the taunting temptation bros from different area codes have to offer.