When falling in love is stranger than fiction

They grab the same tomato at the supermarket, she crashes into him, he goes to the wrong table on a blind date. Typically occurring in movies, the meet-cute is when a future couple meets in a funny, charming, or unusual way. But in the month of love, we discover that when it comes to finding the one, truth is often stranger than fiction.

For Monica and Steven Solomon, meeting under a table about 55 years ago proved to be a recipe for lasting love. “I went with my then-boyfriend to a club which was called The Troubadour. It’s long-since closed, but it was a folk-singing club that was very popular in the 1960s and 1970s,” Monica says.

Someone who finds it difficult to sit still for long, Monica, who was 18 at the time, decided to assist the harried staff serve coffee to the patrons of the crowded club. Having recently upset her mother by losing two contact lenses, she panicked when she realised that she’d once again misplaced a lens during her labours.

“I thought, ‘My mother is going to freak!’ so I dived under a table I’d served to look for it. Two minutes later, I was joined by a guy under the table saying, ‘Can I help you, what are you looking for?’ And that was my husband.”

Their connection was immediate. “I absolutely knew just by the way he spoke to me and the way he was, that this was a guy I really wanted to get to know better,” says Monica. “We’ve been together ever since.” The two will celebrate 54 years of marriage this month.

For Karie Goldin, a holiday crush turned into happily ever after. Holidaying with her parents in Israel in 1977, 17-year-old Karie was immediately attracted to the bell boy, Benny, an Israeli ex-South African who carried their luggage to their Tel Aviv hotel room. “This gorgeous, blue-eyed boy who was 21 was the bell boy in his powder blue shirt and brown pants uniform, I remember it like yesterday,” she says. “After he helped with our suitcases, my father tipped him a dollar.”

Seeing him each morning as they left the hotel, Karie was always too shy to speak. “One afternoon outside the hotel, I saw him sitting with a beautiful girl and he asked me to join them for a walk. She was also South African. He asked us both if we’d go out with him on a bus if he came to South Africa and she said definitely not, and I said, of course! That was the only conversation we had in Israel.”

On the last day of her holiday, Karie lost her sunglasses and left her address with hotel reception in case they were found. “Six weeks later, I received a letter from Benny. We corresponded by letter every three weeks, as that’s how long they took to get here.

“Ten months after we first met, he phoned me and later that day, arrived at my parents’ house. I remember watching him walk up our long driveway from the bus stop. The next day was officially our first date, and I was in love hook, line, and sinker.” Three daughters and six grandchildren later, the Goldins are to celebrate their 42nd wedding anniversary.

Israeli Natalie Meyerowitz met her Johannesburg-born husband, Neil, in Durban when she was working there as part of a delegation through the Jewish Agency. But unbeknown to her, their paths had crossed before. “I was invited with my group of volunteers for a Shabbat at Izinga shul,” she says.

“My husband flew with a religious friend to Durban for a running race, and asked the rabbi if they could come for dinner. When I arrived at the dinner, I saw a cute guy and we had an intense conversation. But, at the end of the night, we didn’t exchange numbers. A day later, I saw a message on Tinder from a guy who I had ignored before, saying, ‘Now I know why you looked familiar…’”

Timor and Marc Lifschitz knew each other from school where they were two years apart. Yet it was only when she fainted, and Marc, a paramedic, came to her rescue, that sparks flew. “He was called as he had just left the mall with his girlfriend, so he rushed back to me with his equipment,” Timor recalls.

“He put me in the recovery position, did my vitals, and waited until I woke up to see my Prince Charming’s face above mine. I dumped my boyfriend, he dumped his girlfriend, and about 10 days later, we started dating. We were high school sweethearts. We’ve been together for 17 years, married for six and a half, and have four beautiful children.”

After a series of disastrous dates following her divorce, “born-and-bred Yid” Ann Rabinowitz decided to stay single. “It got to the stage where I was done with men – particularly Jewish men and more specifically, their mothers!” she laughs.

Yet, when her then 12-year-old daughter asked if she could add her to a dating site, Ann reluctantly agreed, as long as her suitors weren’t Jewish. There, she met a man called Adam from Jukskei Park. Safe in the knowledge that Jews don’t live in that suburb, she corresponded with Adam for six weeks before agreeing to meet for a cup of coffee. Her friend, Shelley, saw his photo and told Ann she would marry him, to which Ann swore she’d never wed again.

On the day of the coffee date, Ann had a particularly exhausting day at work and decided not to go. Yet at the consistent urging of her friend and colleague, Yasmeen, she dragged herself out, feeling annoyed and looking the worse for wear.

“As Adam and I started talking, I asked him for the first time what his surname was.” When he replied “Rabinowitz”, Ann was gobsmacked. “I met my person, the love of my life, my everything, when I least wanted to and least expected it – and he’s Jewish,” she says. “We’re about to celebrate our 10th anniversary.” In a bittersweet twist, both Shelley and Yasmeen passed away shortly after the couple they helped bring together were married.