I’ll be honest, dating in the 21st century requires more work than I had ever imagined. Singles should get paid significantly for the hoops that we have to jump through just to find “the one†(assuming you believe in that sort of thing.)
Last week I went on my first round of speed-dating. For those of you who are barely familiar with the concept, well… you’re probably socially advanced, likely to be in a relationship, or too charming to have sought out a service like this in the first place.
For those, like me, who have successfully missed and misinterpreted any/all dating cues ever thrown our way – well, we’re the ones who silently gravitate to these painful matchmaking opportunities. We simply reframe them as “experimental opportunities†and pretend to think that our career-driven lifestyles were the cause of our dating discrepancies. (Yeah, sure, I’ll buy that.)
Basically, you meet with 8 guys, engage in an 8-minute conversation, then move on to the next guy. Katie Couric tried it on the Today Show a year ago. I figured, if she did it, then there is hope. (At least, that’s what I kept telling myself).
Prior to the event, I was sitting in my car on the phone to Spacekicker, hoping he’d talk me out of it (which, of course, he didn’t) – so I finally went in. The dating began at exactly 7:18 pm in a fru-fru Scottsdale lounge called Six (www.6az.com). When I arrived, there were a total of 11 guys to 11 girls. The facilitator suggested it would be more advantageous if we completed 11 dates in 6 minutes, instead of 8 in 8. I found this to be relieving because – last I read – the brain dies if it’s deprived of oxygen for more than 6 minutes. This would at least give me a chance to breathe between dates.
Ding! Let the dating begin.
Although the evening wasn’t as elaborate as the speed-dating sequence from the 40-year-old Virgin, the experience was equally awkward.
You know those people who when stating something ludicrous say, “nah, I’m just kidding – no, I’m not. No, really I’m just kidding. No, I’m not†Well, I met that guy’s cousin. He wasn’t as annoying as THAT guy, but he was close. He would somehow use the phrase incorrectly and completely out of context. For instance, I’d ask him, “so what do you do for a living?†And he’d respond, “I work in computers, no I’m just kidding, no I’m not. No really, I do… nah, I’m just kidding.†Then I’d ask, “So, what movies do you enjoy?†Fairly normal question, I thought. Same thing. “I like action movies. No I’m just kidding, no I’m not. Really, I do, no…†It was utterly confusing. I thought about going on a second date with him just in case he was suffering from first date nerves, but then I opted not to, no I’m just kidding… no I’m not… no really, I’m serious – I’m just kidding… no, I’m not…
Then there was this guy who actually tried to convince me that modern copy machines had gotten so advanced that he considered himself a computer analyst more than a copying supervisor. C’mon, did he think I was REALLY going to buy that? No dude. In the words of Dana Carvey & Rob Schneider, you’re just a guy â€making copies.â€
One guy showed up wearing 70’s style (high-cut) white tennis shorts, shirt and flip flops. I’m definitely not one to judge what’s fashionable – but come on! High-class night club, a room full of hello-dollies… at least demonstrate that you have the capacity to select the corresponding outfit for the corresponding night club. Too much of a square-peg-in-the-round-hole kinda guy…
One gentleman thought his creativity would distinguish him from others. He suggested a game called “opposites†where he’d say something and I’d state the opposite. Fine, yin/yang, black/white – I figured I knew what to do. He went first and started with etrade.com — uhm, do websites even have opposites? Next!
Eleven guys, six minutes all ended up being a blur. I discreetly tallied my comments in my little red note card. Too old, too young, too raw, too refined, too this, too that… you name it, chances are, I wrote it (in code, of course.)
A few days later, I checked my profile on the speed-dating website. Any potential matches would have been listed under my profile. Surprisingly, I ended up with two matches. The police guy and the intellectual lawyer guy. In the event I entertain these second dates (and I will NOT be manipulated by Spacekicker’s influences, this time), at least I’ll be served and protected or have a mindfully stimulating legal conversation. (That is, if I don’t get arrested or sued for my ideas first.)
