“I’m running away”, I whined. “There’s no way I’m doing this.”
I pause, eyeing up an escape route.
“You don’t believe me, but I will.”
Blonde grins at me, sips her wine and then studiously examines the “speeding ticket” we’d both been handed, ignoring me.
“Welcome to tonight’s Slow Dating event” I read. “You’ll be give four minutes to get acquainted with each other. At the end of each four minute date we will ring a bell. Guys, you move on to the next table. Ladies, stay where you are.”
That’s easy for you to say. Every part of me is urging me to bolt. We’re sitting outside a pub on New Oxford Street. From the outside, its black paintwork makes it look more like a goth joint than a bar for slick, hip, city dwellers. This doesn’t bode well.
I glance around, mentally summing up everyone I see. Fat. Ugly. Desperate. Too short. Too… meh.
Somewhere a bell rings. I take a deep breath. This is it. Plunging, headfirst, back into the game.
I settle myself at table 6, sticking the rather embarrassing name tag on the table, hoping against hope that there will at least be someone semi-interesting to talk to. Blonde sits next to me, ready to pre-warn with a well practiced look if my impending date is going to last 4 minutes or 40.
I have a couple of stock questions in mind, just incase things are really going slowly.
Thankfully, my first date, B, the Scottish pharmaceutical software engineer is perfectly nice and easy to talk to. Shame he’s ugly. The next 11 dates aren’t much better. Every time the bell rings, my heart sinks a little further. Wine slips down my throat far too quickly. Why don’t they have waiters at this thing? And then, as soon as it begun, it is over. I thank my last date and high tail it to the door.
For your amusement, below is the word for word transcript of my notes on the evening (additional notes added in the cold light of day in italics.)
- K – Irish. Air traffic control [when asked what his perfect job would be. Something to do with the high-vis vest he said]
- C – Irish. NZ. Climb [instantly forgettable. Broad accent and ginger hair.]
- J – Taiwaan. Find himself [incredibly quiet. Blonde wondered whether this was so us ladies had to lean forward to hear him giving him a perfect view down our tops? His photo on the site shows him spread across a bed. His big mission in life - to find himself.]
- R – Essex. Fat. DJ [need I add more?]
- T – Malaysia. Red Wine. Champagne [a man with a passion for wine. And that's about it, it seems]
- P – Dull. Gay. Grand Designs ["Have you been to an event like this before?" I ask. "Ooh yes," he says "lots. But no one's ever ticked me" I wonder whether the reason he hasn't had much success is because he keeps going to straight events.]
- J – Mad lottery man [apparently J goes to a lot of speed dating events. Like, every week. Apparently he makes things up. Evidently, he's slightly mad... or a little slow - backed up by the fact that my friend's 2 year old can write better than he could. This week, his parents had won the lottery. Yes, really. "What's it like talking to a multi-millionaire?" J asks me. I bite my tongue but want to answer "I don't know. I'll let you know when I meet one"]
- Y – Kuwait. Sweet but no cigar [a nice guy. Not my type but I nice guy. To be fair though, anyone would seem nice after the mad lottery man.]
- R – Indian. Wants to change the world ["I've been in London for 3 years," R tells me, "but I don't really have any friends. I have people I work with but no one I could go out for coffee with." I'm tempted to tick him, just so he feels wanted.]
- M – Costa Rica. Film [this is all I got out of M. He talked a lot. Nothing sunk in. Obviously, not a great date.]
- Y – Numbers [again, if the lasting impression I get from a man is "numbers", I don't think it's going to be the love affair of the century.]
And so, this morning, an email came through, asking me to tick my favourites. 3 minutes later, I receive this…
“We are sorry that you didn’t tick anyone from this event. The good news is that under the terms of our guarantee, you are entitled to a free event in future (any time within the next six months).We run regular events near you and invariably there are completely different people at each event, so fingers crossed that next time, there may well be someone who rocks your boat.”
Does this mean I have to do it all again?
