Not long ago I went speed dating with a couple of my friends. As expected my family were there ever-supportive selves. NOT. They hated the idea so much so that at one point I thought I would turn up to find that my dad, brother, and nephews had scared away all my potential suiters. Well, I ignored their jibes and put up with the banter, and on Friday night made my way to Oceana (should have known then that it was a bad idea).
Firs of all I don’t think the organisers could have picked a seedier looking room. It looked like something out of Secret Diary of a Call Girl. Velvet drapes were hung all over the walls and it was so dark Buggs Bunny wouldn’t have been able to make head Bor tails of what was going on. Secondly, the age range was 21-35. I don’t know who was checking I.D that night but whoever it was needed their eyes tested. The men were more like 45, a couple of them had hair (even then it was either grey or thinning), and I know it was dark but that’s no excuse for wearing a YOLO t-shirt.
My friends persuaded me not to turn around and run out the door, so instead I headed for the bar. Before the speed dating started there was a fifteen minute ‘mingling’ session, I can safely say that I spent about 14 minutes of those buying drinks and getting them down my neck as quick as possible. By the time I sat down with my name and number on a badge I was beginning to see the funny side of the whole thing.
After the first guy finished telling me why he had been single for seven ears I had to mark my sheet with my thoughts on him. Ticking the ‘never met again’ box I looked up to find him still standing there. AWKWARDDDD. I don’t know where he had been for the last three minutes because it clearly wasn’t on the same date as me. He was so shocked that I didn’t want to meet him again that I had to try and get out of it by putting it down to a drunken slip of the hand, and I really meant to tick the ‘date’ box. Avoiding anymore awkward-turtle moments I made sure that I ticked the ‘date’ box for the next nine suiters. Ohhhh Jessie what a stupid girl you are.
The next day an email popped up in my inbox giving me a list of all of my ‘perfect matches’. I don’t know if you’ve ever been speed dating before, but if you get a perfect match you get given your match’s number. So I spent the rest of my (extremely hungover) day thinking up lies that I could use to get myself out of going on any more cringeworthy dates. After telling them that I had met someone else the night before – apparently I move on quicker than Jordan – I thought that that would be that.
Yeahhh it definitely wasn’t the end of that. Every Monday since I politely declined any other dates I’m still receiving texts messages from one of the blokes asking for a date. This, you might think is nice, but as I mentioned earlier, I went with my friends. Friends talk to each other. Every Monday we all receive the same text, at the same time, asking the same question.
So my words of dating wisdom would be: don’t get drunk and feel the need to tick the ‘date’ box for EVERY guy. It will come back to bite you in the ass. Believe me.