February 13, 2010

I agreed to go speed dating on Valentine’s Day. What was I thinking? This one day comes loaded with baggage. Guys are squirrelly and women get weird. Why do we Americans buy into the idea that if we don’t have a special someone on February 14th there’s something wrong with us? After all, it’s a pseudo-holiday created to sell more greeting cards. Still the anxiety runs deep…

In kindergarten, arts and crafts time was spent making fun “mailboxes” to collect our Valentines. My mom made sure I gave a card to every kid in my class. Not all parents were as democratic…so many feelings were hurt when so-and-so neglected to drop a card in their box. It was our first lesson that cards & candy equals love & popularity.

In high school, V-Day carnations were a yearly fundraiser. Orders were taken during lunch then delivered during homeroom. It was the most agonizing half hour ever endured. As expected, the cool girls received giant bouquets, one carnation at a time; while I (and others like me) looked on with resignation, knowing there wasn’t a flower with my name on it, yet hoping eternally that this year there was a secret admirer.

Later, in the workplace, I watched as women’s desks became exotic jungles of blooms while my bare desk practically announced, “Look! She’s solo today, of all days. How tragic!” It really wasn’t and in fact 364 other days of the year, I was fine without the flowers or cards or candy. Why did this one day sting? Nothing had changed but the date on a calendar.

Now I pretty much reject Valentine traditions. Sure, I send cards or treats to my family but otherwise, I avoid the day. I don’t plan to celebrate even when I find Prince Charming. Flowers are triple the price, candy is often pretty but tasteless, and restaurants are crowded beyond comfort – what’s romantic about that?

So why, oh WHY, did I agree to attend a dating event on the day greeting card companies dub “the most romantic day of the year?” WHAT was I thinking? Is there any chance I might find a guy who can change my attitude towards February 14?

February 15, 2010

Well, that was tragic. The only thing that saved it from being a complete disaster was the free champagne. The cheap, two dollar a bottle champagne.

Here’s how speed dating is SUPPOSED to work. You meet 15-20 guys. You get five or so minutes to chat with each one, then there’s about a minute between each date. This time is used to make notes, “score” your date, and for the guys to change tables. Repeat until everyone chats with everyone. It’s a lovely, relaxed evening.

Here’s what actually happened: two separate groups of speed daters (Group One for ages 21-30 and Group Two for ages 31-45) are inexplicably combined into one large super-group. I know Jack Nicholson doesn’t think twice at such an age difference, but seriously, how often do a 45 year old and a 21 year old find something in common? “Oh you’re in college? My kid’s in college too! How ’bout the price of books these days?!?” Who decided this might be a good idea??

This also means each lady faces a gauntlet of FORTY guys. OK, good odds, sure, but there are only TWO HOURS for the entire event!!!

Despite my “it’s gonna be great” attitude, this really isn’t working so well. A guy sits down, says “Hello” and suddenly the hostess runs by yelling, “Time to change tables!”
“Um, bye? Nice to meet you – I think…” I’m getting annoyed at the situation. Who can connect like this? Do I want to see this guy again? I dunno – I have longer conversations in the supermarket checkout line.

In a desperate attempt to deal with the situation, one poor fellow starts spewing questions, like Rainman, before he even sits down – “What’s your name? What do you do? What kind of movies do you like? Do you like sports? Where do you live? Do you have a dog? Do you like cats? (I’m a really good driver!)”

As I was saying, “Do you want me to answer?” The hostess runs by and yells, “Switch!”
Wait! What??? I didn’t even get to ask this guy his name!!

By the end of the night, I don’t know who Bob, Dick or Harry are. I certainly can’t remember which of the 5 Toms is the full time college student, which one is truly charming, and which one I fear is a serial killer in training.

I figure the safe course is to score only the handful I could remember as “yes” and the ones I wasn’t quite sure as “maybe another drink.” Then I snoop around for more information to make sure I check “hell no!” to the serial killer.

The girls and I walk to the bar to figure out what just happened. We’re exhausted, cranky, and ready for drinks. We decided there were a couple of guys we’d like to see again, and just hope we checked “yes” to the right ones.

Now the waiting begins.

February 18, 2010

No word. No email. No phone calls. This must be good right? I’d get an immediate response if I didn’t have a single match…

February 20, 2010

Dear Speed Dating Company,
What’s the deal? I haven’t heard a peep from you since the event. I can only imagine this means you’re sorting through a vast number of positive matches to find the best possible date for me. Did you find my Prince Charming yet?
Sincerely,
Reluctant Dater

February 22, 2010

Dear Reluctant Dater,
Sorry. We found no matches for you. We think it’s great that you’re so choosy! Feel free to come back another time.
Sincerely,
Speed Dating Company.

Odder still, all three of my girlfriends got similar answers. Seriously? Not one single match between four women and forty guys??? How is that even possible? What are the odds? Vegas bookies would make bank!

So, yeah. That’s it. I am done with the speed dating.

Done!