Speed Dating

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I feel like everybody needs good stories from when they were single (those crazy ol’ days) to regale their recently divorced female friends (fuck him! we never liked him anyway!) & grandchildren (see kids, your GamGam used to be a hot piece of ass… now hand me the Tequila and don’t tell your father).

So that’s what I figure I’m doing – just collecting up the stories for the happy hour tall-tale box, stories I’ll embellish and cover in memory rhinestones when I’m stuck in a loveless marriage 20 years from now.

Hey Paris! Wanna go on a date?
Yeah sure! 
Wanna go on a blind date?
Um… yea!
Wanna go on a blind date with 18 guys at five minutes a sesh?
…K? 

I didn’t really put too much thought into my speed dating cherrypop until the morning of. I didn’t exacccctly sign up for the event, more got roped into it by a friend who hosts it, facilitating young love and such…wait…Dan are you cupid!?

Hold the phone, I got some ‘vestigating to do.

No plans Saturday night? Forced interaction with members of the opposite sex? I’m in. and bonus! I convinced another single gal pal to come along so we could enjoy the delights of Toronto speed dating together.

I was all set until for the dating extravaganza until Saturday brunch with my little brother, who asked me if I had thought about any questions I wanted to ask these dudes.

Er.

No. I hadn’t really thought that far ahead.

I have no problem just chatting with people I don’t know/ have just met (thank you Expat upbringing) so why would this be any different?

Oh wait… because we have five minutes.

And these people are trying to suss out if they want to ever see you again ever. Which they will decide on first encounter.

None of this: well she’s hideously awkward on first encounter but you learn to love her quirks.

Five minutes. Do or die. Date or un-date … (whatever just go with it).

It’s a very pressure-cooker situation, where love is the steam and you and your new blind date are the meats and vegetables…stewing together. Will the stew be tasty and delicious or bland and overcooked (yes! I am rocking the imagery today).

To combat the surprising amount of nerves I felt, partly in relation to the under-prepared question thing (so… do you like stuff?) and partly because five minutes before I walked in and due to the suns angle in my friends car I realized I have been cultivating quite the lady-mustache (good god! This is why I will die alone) I did what any sane person would do. I walked in, got my sticker and booklet of judgement (Yes/No ________Comments) and ordered a significant amount of booze.

The worst part of the experience was for SURE the 20 minutes before the actual speed dating began, with all us singles milling around the bar sort of eyeing each other up. Many stood in silence, a few chatted with members of the same sex, but it all very very tense and very awkward.

Perhaps this is the reason for the amount of liquid courage I consumed (then again, maybe I just have a problem).

The venue was one of those annoying frou frou vodka bars so they didn’t have Cider (how about rum? no? FUCK) that had a rude bartender and uber dark interior. I had a couple Vodka Diet Cokes (at extortionate prices) and then switched to a pitcher of Vodka laced Lemonade that I was supposed to share with my blind-dating pal (not a blind pal… just to be clear). Key words there are “supposed to”, too bad they sat her a table away from me, so I had no choice but to drink almost the entire jug myself, while trying out my first impressions on total strangers.

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Did I debate making shit up? Yes.

Did I? No.

Why not? Because I’m not that quick on my feet and also everybody seemed really nice for the most part and I didn’t want to lie, or more importantly get caught out in a lie (oh the humiliation).

What did I learn?
Most of the dudes at this event wanted to meet someone and were either sick of online dating or didn’t like the idea of it. One guy actually told me that online dating suuuu-hhhucks for guys because girls get inundated with messages and the gents will very rarely get a response. Also a jug of alcoholic lemonade is a lot and I don’t have a very strong tolerance. And my mustache isn’t that bad but there are definitely places I can get it waxed (yay).

Should you try Speed dating?
Are you single? Do you hate online dating? Are you okay in person? Do you have an open attitude when it comes to this sort of thing? If yes, then my answer is yes. What have you got to lose? The guys were nice, and some of the conversations were funny, although it felt weird when they walked away and made notes or if you were in the middle of a conversation and the bell rang and they were like OKHAYBYE.

Would I do it again?
Why not?

This message brought to you by the Drunk Mustache Single Girls Society. Don’t drink and Mustache.

P.

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