It all began quiet innocently… As I was busy explaining to my dear friend Gwendolyn that I was in need of some male attention, it was time to get my ‘flirt on’ and I needed a man to make me feel like a woo-man. She interrupted with a suggestion of speed dating! Gwendolyn had been reading a regular dating advice column that swears by the speed dating revolution!
Of course everyone has heard of speed dating. It has been the latest craze for the past couple of years, with many stories of those who have found love in five minutes. Sure, why not, I’ll give it a shot! I am a fan of the five-minute love story.
Before long we had created profiles on a speed dating site, parted with a fifty and were dreaming of our future husbands!
As the speed dating event approached, so did my nerves. I contemplated the night ahead and wondered if I was really up for this. Speed dating has been the saviour of many lovelorn singles. But what should I expect?
We are in a quaint bar in the city, avoiding greasy finger food for fear of the crumbs that could be left on one’s mouth. The same does not apply to the free drinks of offer.
The host gives everyone three free drink cards and explains how the night works. As he covers off the Do’s and Dont’s; I use my finely tuned peripheral vision to check out the male talent and size up the competition. The host carefully explains that writing your date’s name on the date card does not mean that you have to marry them. Phew!
The majority of women have come straight from work and are suited-up in their finest. The men, however, seem to have put on their best jeans and shirts after a hard day on the construction site. Nice! I like a man who is good with his hands and can dress appropriately as well.
The host instructs us to choose a seat. Gwendolyn and I head for the back of the room where the mood lighting is best. I quickly formulate my game plan. Every guy loves a funny girl, so tonight I choose to be funny!
My first date approaches, and my palms start sweating. I have never had sweaty palms before. How do you shake hands with sweaty palms? I start to panic, as visions flash through my mind of my first date warning others to ‘watch out for the sweaty palm girl’.
He sits down with a big welcome and by-passes the hand shake (sigh of relief). My first date is Larry, yes Larry. I have never met a Larry before and inform him how lovely his name is. Maybe he has a cooling system for my new found sweaty palm dilemma?
Now I just need to muster up some funny questions. But doing funny ‘on demand’ is harder than I thought. I realised I have not planned this well.
Me: ‘If you were a bug which one would you be?’
Yep, I said it. It was out there in the universe, and it didn’t sound funny at all. My date reinforced this insight with no laughter coming my way, only a serious looking face.
First date: ‘A bug, not sure, I don’t really like bugs, can I think about it and get back to you?’
Me: ‘Sure, no rush. We do have five minutes, after all.’
Result: Not so promising after all. The bug was the beginning of the end. This speed dating is harder than I thought.
Note: Probably not a good opening line.
Second date: Christopher
Christopher: ‘If you won a million dollars what would you do with it?’
Me: ‘I would shop the world for the finest clothes and I would buy a house and a new car.’
Christopher: ‘So you wouldn’t give any to charity?’
Me: ‘Oh yeah, absolutely, that would be up there with the house.’
Result: Christopher’s look of disappointment clearly explains why I am not getting his number.
Third date: Joseph
Me: ‘What are two things that I would never guess about you?’
Joseph: ‘That I still live at home with my mum and I am very spiritual.’
Me: ‘How is living with the folks panning out for you?’
Joseph: ‘I have never lived by myself. My mum is a great cook and I have never had a need to move out. I think it’s important that people know that up front.’
Result: No explanation required. If unsure, re-read above section.
I realise this is not going so well. I decide to try a new approach, and take things up a notch. Surely there has to be one potential candidate that I will match with. I think seriously about my next question.
Fourth date: Zenith
Me: ‘What is your best dance move?’
Zenith: ‘That would imply that I can dance. I like yoga and meditation and do not feel that dance is part of my genre.’
Me: (thinking) I now stare into my drink and count the minutes. I am overwhelmed by the seconds. Surely five minutes has come and gone and I missed the buzzer? I smile politely, he smiles and we endeavour to converse.
Me: ‘I have done yoga before. I loved it.’
Zenith: ‘What type of yoga did you do?’
Me: ‘Just your average yoga – down wood dog type, you?
Zenith: ‘I practice Iyengar, which is based on yogic teachings.’
Me: ‘I didn’t know that Yogi Bear was a teacher.’ I laugh a little too hysterically at my clever humour.
Result: Zenith looks unimpressed. I think I have messed with his genre.
‘Can we match, can we puh-leeze? There are so many more adventures that Yogi Bear has had that I think can be explored.’
Fifth date: Luke
Me: ‘Do you have any drink cards left?’
Luke: ‘Yes I do, I have two left.’
Me: ‘I will sell you Gwendolyn’s phone number for your drink vouchers.’
Luke laughs nervously until I convince him I’m serious.
Gwendolyn checks what I’m up to and wonders why I am back at the bar.
Me: (This guy is a wee hottie.) ‘Helloooooo Number Six!’
I sit up a little straighter in my chair and do the lean-in, head resting on my hand, and give my best interested look. I miss his name as I gaze longingly into his eyes and wait for him to speak.
Number Six: ‘Hello there, how has your night been?’ and he smiles.
Me: ‘Fantastic’, I lie; let him think there is a bit of competition.
Number Six: ‘What is your favourite body part?’
Me: ‘Hmmm, good question. Well, let’s see.’ I struggle to keep pure thoughts. ‘I would have to say that is my ummm, errr,’ (trying to come up with a witty response I settle on) ‘that would have to be my pinkie.’ MY PINKIE? Someone slap me now!
Number Six: ‘Curious. Why your pinkie?’
Me: ‘Good question, good question.’ I proceed to demonstrate my double-jointed pinkie and I can tell he is very impressed. What talent, what style – yes he is thinking these things.
There is chemistry here, I can feel it. I let him know that I wouldn’t demonstrate the skills of my pinkie to just any man. He smiles. It’s getting warm in here.
Result: Number six is getting a big tick on my date card.
Seventh date: Adam
Me: ‘Hi, what’s your name?’
Him: ‘Adam, what a great night, I have met so many lovely people.’
Me: ‘Yeah it has been fantastic.’
The conversation dries up – do I really have to do all the work? I am tired with trying to generate small talk so I opt for smiling and scanning the room.
Eighth and final date
There is a reprieve at the end due to a man who left mid game! Was it me? Did he see his next date and think he should do a runner. Surely not! That can’t be speed dating etiquette. The host was quick to explain that my last date had an ‘emergency and had to leave’. What? .. he couldn’t wait 5 minutes! Does he not know I could be the one!
Needless to say, my 5 minute search for love didn’t go according to plan. I was however happy and delighted to receive a message from ‘Hottie Number Six’ a few days later. Maybe the speed dating advice columns were onto something. After all – it only takes one. Stay tuned for what happened on my date with ‘Hottie Number Six’.
Share your speed dating stories here? Have you ever met anyone from speed dating?
Get the full story of what happened with Hottie Number 6