Or so I thought.
I signed up for a speed dating event in an attempt to force myself to get up and out. I'd been moping about over my last romantic experience for almost 6 months now, and the thinking was that getting "out there" would be a good thing to do. My practically-engaged friend, Julie, volunteered to go with me for moral support. For those of you who are likely wondering: She did this with the full support of her love, who was not worried at all. He wisely said, If she finds anyone she's interested in there, the we have no business thinking about getting married. Another friend, Melissa, a brave speed dating veteran, signed up to go too.
I thought by giving myself a couple months lead time, when the event came I would be raring to go.
Well, the night came, and I was less than excited. Don't get me wrong. It was fun to get all dressed up and go out with girlfriends. I also had lots of fun doing the girly wardrobe consult with my sister friends. However, from the moment I entered the venue, I had a feeling it would be a bust.
Basically, the front room of a local brewery-type restaurant was set up with 14 small tables. Each table had a number and a female participant assigned to it. (I was number 10.) Once the event began, a male would sit down at the table. The idea is that we would talk until a bell rang to signal the end of the "date." These usually lasted about 5 minutes. (Some felt muuuuuuuch longer, but more on that in a moment.) After the date ended, you got a moment to make notes to yourself to help you remember the "date" before the next person sat down at your table. At the end of the event, you indicate next to each man's name either "Yes, Let's Talk" or "No Thanks." Easy enough.
I successfully avoided the mingling-at-the-bar phase at the beginning of the evening, opting instead to prep at my table. (This was one of many indications over the course of the night that I am, perhaps, NOT a "normal girl.") My thinking was, if I wanted to meet people at a bar, I would hang out at a bar. Small talk like that just stresses me out. We had to wait until all the participants arrived. I noted the guy who came in last. That's strike one for you, buddy. I value promptness. (Again, another sign of "not normal.") Finally, it was time to begin. Almost.
First, the event host gave us what felt like a lengthy speech on "how to date" - including such gems as:
- Strike while the iron is hot: Follow up on your match results right away by contacting your matches.
- Use polite email etiquette: Respond to everyone’s emails in a prompt and courteous manner.
- Dating is a numbers game: Get yourself out there and meet as many singles as you can.
- Do your best to live by the Golden Rule: Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Treat others with respect.
The speech finally ended, and NOW it was time to begin.
Bachelor #1: Sweet little accountant. And I mean literally little. He was about 5'6". Still, I was determined to put my best foot forward. I did my best to be charming, but instead ended up yammering on about how I like the structure of this kind of event. I think I may have actually used the words control freak to describe myself. I was being self deprecating, but I could see the fear in his eyes.... (Not "normal girl" moment #3). Mercifully the bell rang and the next person came to sit down.
Bachelor #2: IT guy from southern India. We got off on the wrong foot because I asked the first question. (Not "normal girl" moment #4) I'm naturally chatty, and it just seemed like the thing to do. Apparently, for this fellow, that was taboo. He did ask a good question: What 3 words would your friends use to describe you? (For the record, I said irreverent, caring, and responsible.) He spent the rest of the 5 minutes telling me how he his friends would describe him as upright, outspoken, and strong. It came across as scary, and when the bell rang, I was relieved.
Bachelor #3: Very nice software engineer from Burma. I spent the entire 5 minutes asking him to repeat himself. Or trying to make jokes that got lost in translation. This Word Girl can't be fussing with the language gap. It took a verrrrrry long time for that bell to ring.
Bachelor #4: Contractor from Mexico by way of California. We had a nice chat about drywall and the ridiculousness of the McMansion. Conversation ended when he was unable to tell me what grades his two children were in. Deadbeat dads are a firm deal breaker. The bell couldn't come soon enough.
Bachelor #5: This guy told me he was "in the entertainment industry." When I asked for more detail, he revealed that he was the "supervisor of an entertainment complex" in Wake County. I was intrigued. Walnut Creek? No. Koka Booth? Nope. He runs the go-karts at a fun park. Turns out, go-karts are a great way to build a corporate team. And they go really, really fast. Unlike that 5 minutes. I think aged 10 years before that bell rang.
I was starting to get a wee bit exasperated at this point.
Bachelor #6: When Bachelor #6 sat down, I let out a sigh. "How's it been going for you?" I asked, trying to gauge if it was just me who was exasperated. "We're not supposed to talk about other tables," he chided me. I raised my eyebrows and let him launch into his speech. This guy handles visas and immigration issues for a local IT corporation. We bonded over the general public's ignorance over immigration issues. and the went on the complain about their ignorance over most other things too. Maybe it was the exasperation, but I did not hold back in my grousing. Best behavior be damned! He scored points for mentioning Jon Stewart's importance to the current political discourse, but when the bell rang, I was not sad to see him move on.
Bachelor #7: This was the first guy who I actually found physically attractive all night. Until he opened his mouth. He was in commercial real estate. He went to UNC. He liked to talk. Please ring, bell. Please! When it finally did, he muttered to himself, "There is never enough time..." I beg to differ.
Bachelor #8: By this point, I had completely given up on meeting anyone I would consider dating, and was now just trying to get through the conversations. I have no idea what Bachelor # 8 does or where he is from. He was short, but nice. We talked about Star Wars and Doctor Who, and how cool my kids are. (I know I'm biased, but I'm sorry, girl who asks for a Doctor Who party on her 6th birthday is COOL.) So far, he was the least revolting guy since Bachelor #1.
When the bell rang, they called a 5 minute break. I ran for the bathroom while Julie refreshed our drinks. In the bathroom, the ladies were lamenting at the disparity in quality between the males and females at this event. I couldn't argue, but mainly just felt bad for everyone involved. Including me. At least Julie got me a yummy cider beverage. If nothing else, the drinks were good. I again successfully avoided the "mingle at the bar" mess and headed back to my table.
Bachelor #9: Young guy from Russia by way of Poland. We talked about languages, and I told him about my abortive attempt to learn the Cyrillic alphabet when I was in college. It was the first easy conversation I had all night. He was sweet and sharp, but so very, very young.
Bachelor #10: African American police officer from Raleigh. He was kind, but VERY intense and very serious. I don't recall what we talked about beyond how people don't manage their kids. I felt like I was in trouble the entire time. At least he was taller than me.
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| Sorry Bachelor #11. You can't overcome this mental association. |
Bachelor #11: When this guy sat down across from me, all I could think of was Andrew from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I cannot recall a single thing about him beyond that. :-(
Bachelor #12: This was the guy who made us all wait for him. And he was wearing all black. And he was ridiculously full of himself. And he was shorter than me. Next.
Bachelor #13: This guy was pretty interesting. He was a dentist in his home in Peru, but here works as a long-distance truck driver. We talked about San Antonio, TX. (That was his answer to What is your favorite place to drive?). He likes to cook. He passionately described a pasta dish that, honestly, was the most appealing idea I had encountered all night. (See "not normal" above.)
Bachelor #14: Mercifully, the last meeting had arrived. Bachelor #14 was taller than me (only the 3rd one all night!), an academic, and well-read. He had also done several of these speed dating events and was very jaded. He told a story of his path crossing the same girl at several different events and how she kept forgetting they had met. I tried to put a positive spin on it, but at that point in the night, I was all tapped out. It was until comparing notes later that I found out my friend Melissa had met and had dinner with him as a result of a past event. She characterized it as, "The Worst Date of My Life." With that recommendation, I had to pass.
Finally, the night came to a close. We got to hear another speech - reiterating the "how to date" advice from the beginning and getting directions on what to expect in the next day or so. I was to indicate the Bachelors I would be willing to hear from. Then, the host would figure out mutual matches, and email the results. I could also expect to get a list of people who indicated interest in me - whether I picked him or not. I will be honest. I had a very hard time saying "Let's Talk" to any of them. After much deliberation, I ended up picking:
- Bachelor #1 - he benefited from being the first
- Bachelor #6 - because Jon Stewart!
- Bachelor #8 - non-revolting Star Wars guy
When I got my list the next morning, I had no mutual matches. I was picked by Bachelor #9 (the sweet young Russian), 13 (the truck-driving cook), and 14 (the academic). All perfectly nice guys, but just not for me.
Overall, I think the guys made out a LOT better than the girls at this particular event. And speed dating doesn't really favor the picky. At least when using an online dating site, I can filter for things like height (When you are an Amazon, these things matter!) and geographic location. Still, I'm glad I went. It was a fun night with the girls, and I have a story.
Even better - hopefully I can get at least a few more months of wallowing in before anybody bothers me about dating again.
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