Dinner Partner vs. Life Partner

The A-list Washington dinner party is as much a part of the city as the statue that sits atop the Capitol. The adept Washington hostess not only makes her reputation by mixing congressmen, Cabinet secretaries, senators, socialites and journalists -- with the occasional president and first lady thrown in -- but being invited to the right soiree signals that you've arrived. So it's no small thing to have Sally Quinn, the author, journalist, wife of former Washington Post editor Ben Bradlee and one of the city's legendary hostesses throw out a party secret, as Quinn does in a recent Post column:

"Orthodox Jews have laws of family purity. The ritual is, during that time of the month for a woman, husbands and wives are not allowed to touch each other or sleep in the same bed. The custom is called harchakot, and many Jewish couples find it to be incredibly tantalizing and it only makes them more turned on to each other when they can finally reunite. My feeling is that seating couples apart at dinner is a social form of harchakot."

My husband and I are Jewish, though not such strict observers that we practice harchakot. Instead we have two young children and a rescue dog who manage to keep us apart in our own bed at all times of the month. That's how I know that Quinn is right: Abstinence can make the heart pound faster.

I think she's right again when she says, "The whole point of going out to dinner is to meet people, make new friends, see old friends, learn something, make connections and share something of yourself with others, not to mention having fun."

In the spirit of full disclosure, I think I should tell you that we are not A-list people. If we have a letter assigned to our names at all, it's probably somewhere in the neighborhood of G. Because of that and, more to the point, because we've not yet figured out a way for the dog to babysit, we don't get out that much together.

When we do go out on date nights, I'm not so sure I want to be "mak[ing] connections" with anyone but said husband. That's the whole point. While I'm sure the ambassador to Belize is fascinating, a good date reminds us why we got married and had children in the first place, in a way that the forced march from dinner time to bed time does not. Watching back episodes of "Mad Men" on Netflix is fun, but a good date has the ability to transcend the present. Then the only trick is staying awake until after the babysitter has been walked home.