The truth about shadchuns

Taken from the Encyclopedia of Jewish Humor – Henry D. Spalding

An old shadchun who found it increasingly difficult to get around because of his arthritis and other afflictions that accompanied his advancement in years, hired a young assistant.

“Do you know anything about this business?” Asked the aged shadchun.

“Not a thing” replied the young man truthfully.

“Then give a listen. The main point in the matchmaking business is that you should always flatter the merchandise. It never hurts to exaggerate a little. In other words spread it on thick.”

“I understand perfectly” the new assistant grinned.

The next evening the old shadchun took the young man on his first call. “We have a chance for a good match”, said the elder. “And here will be a substantial fee involved. The father of this young man is very wealthy. “Just remember my advice: Exaggerat, be enthusiastic and spread it on good and thick.”

Seated around the table in the rich mans home the shadchun started his pitch:

“Have I got the girl for your son! She comes from a long line of famous Rabbis and wealthy bankers. Such yichus you never saw.”

“Wealthy bankers?” interrupted the assistant. “She’s a member of the Rothschild family.”

The old shadchun experienced an uneasy moment- membership in the Rothschild family was too easy to check. Perhaps he should have cautioned the new assistant not to get carried away.

“Another thing” the old shadchun went on, “she’s always perfectly groomed, and on each pinkie she wears a ten carat diamond ring.”

“Ten carats what are you talking?” The young assistant blurted out “Those diamonds are at least 20 carats. I saw them with my own eyes! But as beautiful they are they cant compare to her gorgeous face.”

The shadchun gulped. He was aware that the rich man knew that no woman could be that perfect. So he decided to play it down a bit. “Well to be perfectly honest with you,” he told the prospective groom’s father, “she does have a slight imperfection. On her back she has a tiny wart.”

“Tiny wart?” cried the assistant rapturously. “Believe me it’s a regular hump!”

The old shadchun glared at his young assistant as though he could strangle him with his bare hands. Somehow, he had to save the day or this rich client would be lost.

“There is one more thing,” he said to the grooms father, smiling knowingly, in a man-to-man manner. “Your son will be especially pleased because this girl has the figure of an angel 36-21-36.”

“And that’s an understatement!” Cried the young assistant, butting in once more. “Her bosom is a good 50. Her waist? Figure at least 39. And the hip measurement? Believe me, that girl has a tuchus every bit of 60 inches!!!”