I am not embarrassed to admit that I've tried speedating once. I am, however, slightly embarrassed to admit that I've tried speedating twice. On the first occassion, I ventured into the unknown with my friend Rebecca. The evening provided a good deal of handsome men in suits that thought they were out of my league because they had salaries and health benefits. To be honest, they were out of my league. I was a newbie to NYC at that time and had just started a job which paid a weekly stipend of $50. I was also decidedly not cute. There were some gentlemen in the mix that, in the five minutes I was allowed to converse with them, seemed to be worth giving more of my time. Somehow I managed to match with four men, though I honestly think they probably selected "all" on their ballots to increase match quantity, in the event of less than stellar match quality. This belief is further supported by the fact that three of them, when contacted, ignored my advances. Danny, however, called me to set up a lunch date, so my first speed-dating experience was not a total bust.
Or was it?
Danny had the amazing ability to hold one's attention for no more than five minutes. Since that was the maximum amount of time we were permitted to speak at the speed-dating event, my dating radar did not pick up on this fact. While on the date, I found myself fighting to keep the conversation going, which is something I rarely struggle with. At one point, when I asked the typical first date question: "What do you like to do for fun?" Danny replied, "Smoke the hookah." He offered no further information so I asked if there was anything else he did in his free time and he said, "I go to Astoria. To smoke the hookah."
And that was the most exciting conversation I had with Danny. At least he paid for lunch!
Despite the letdown of my first speed-dating experience, I had fun at the actual event and so decided two years later to rally some friends and give it a second go. The pickings were slim, but I selected two men that I was interested in speaking with further. As these were the only two guys that were worth a second look, my friends all picked them as well and when the matches were sent out, we were met with very incestuous results. I planned a date with Mark and so did my friend Valerie. We both went out with him in the same week, promising that it would cause no rift in our friendship if we both decided we liked him. Though we each had a decent time with Mark (I met him at a bar and we played Connect Four and he offered decidedly better conversational skills than Danny), luckily neither of us were interested in pursuing anything further and therefore did not have to release the claws for a girlfight.
A few days after Valerie and I had our respecitve dates with Mark, we were discussing the humor of the experience in the kitchen at work. A co-worker came in, began making her sandwich and soon had a confused look on her face. "I'm not trying to eavesdrop," she said, "but... did you two date the same guy?" Valerie and I just looked at each other and giggled, embarrassed to divulge the secrets of our speed-dating shenanigans.