Last weekend I embarked on a rare adventure out of the desolate North and headed to the bright lights of London Town. Let me tell you, the folks of London don’t know how lucky they are! You can’t as much as get on a tube without spotting a hottie! Although my schedule was pretty full, catching up with friends and Christmas shopping, I couldn’t resists dipping my toe into what seemed more of a dating ocean than a pool. I did a little research and come Sunday afternoon, found myself dragging my friend, Woody, along to an event, optimistically titled ‘Last Night a Speed Date Changed My Life’.
It was located in a Shoreditch bar that put Carlisle’s attempts at trendy to shame. Its suitably low lighting, loud music, mismatched furniture and random items stuck on the walls ticked all the trendy boxes. This would have been ideal for an evening event but at 2:00pm on a Sunday afternoon it was all a bit intense. We had been under the impression that everyone had to come in a mixed-sex pair to ensure even numbers but we seemed to be the only attendees to have stuck to this. Groups of women sat giggling and cradling cosmos whilst the darker peripheries of the room contained single males, nursing beers and looking intently at their phones, desperately trying to avoid any more awkward small talk than was strictly necessary.
The organiser eventually stood up and gave a brief spiel about the number of marriages that had resulted from previous speed dating events (she also told us how many of these marriages had ended in divorce - information that seemed surplus to requirement). On that cheery note, we were given our cards on which to note our dates then the girls were dispersed to individual tables. Each man would sit opposite you, you had a three minute date and then a bell would go and the men would move on. So far, so good. Let the dating begin:
The First Bae of Christmas:
Things did not get off to a good start when Vihaan sat down in front of me. From his appearance, one would have thought that the dark room would have suited him, but he still managed to resemble a mole that had accidentally burrowed in the wrong direction and was slightly discombobulated to find himself above ground. As this was the first date of the day I would like to think that neither of us had quite hit our stride in terms of A-game chat. Nevertheless, I was slightly surprised when, asking him what he did in his spare time, he responded, ‘I’ve developed a fetish for pizza, particularly sourdough’. Luckily the bell went before he could disclose any further details about this particular penchant.
The Second Bae of Christmas:
The odds were stacked against Johan from the word ‘go’. A slightly older gentleman, I respected Johan for his willingness to get out there and try new things but unfortunately his striking resemblance to the child-catcher in Chitty Chitty Bang Bang was too unnerving to move on from. This was combined with a thick German accent that was indecipherable over the loud music. I spent what seemed like a very long three minutes making non-committal answers to questions I had not heard and desperately trying to avoid the sweets that had been placed on the table, just in case they were the bait to Johan’s trap.
The Third Bae of Christmas:
My mind was not put at rest when Johan was replaced by Sanjeep. Upon arrival we had had to enter our names and email addresses into a computer. I had noticed the name above mine had been Sanjeep, chiefly because his email address had been ‘notsanjeep@hotmail.com’. Was this another trap? When Sanjeep launched in with the question, ‘what are you most afraid of?’, I refrained from answering ‘Johan’. Instead I disclosed my second greatest fear, raw eggs. Sanjeep didn’t seem to know how to respond to this so I asked him his own question in return. He spent the rest of the three minutes trying to think of an answer. He clearly hadn’t quite thought his conversation starter through…
The Fourth Bae of Christmas:
Awkward silences were not a problem for Connor, the slightly rotund, spotty Irishman sporting a blazer and bright pink jumper, who sat down next. I don’t think I said a word over the next three minutes: Connor works for the National Rheumatoid Arthritis Society and is the only person in his office who is male and under the age of fifty. Consequently, he is very clued up on Strictly Come Dancing. Talking of which, he met Ed Balls when he was eleven and Ed bought him a hot chocolate. He met him again last year and Ed Balls bought him a pint - apparent highlights of his life to date. Eventually Connor paused for breath and the bell went. He just had time to squeeze in what he felt was a vital and reassuring quality about himself, he hates Americans.
The Fifth Bae of Christmas:
Connor happily trotted off to the next table and over strutted Gaz. Gaz clearly saw the whole event as a primitive mating dance and was doing his best impression of the dominant male silverback gorilla. He strutted over with his arms clenched out in front of him and shrugged himself into his seat. His enormous arms must have been very heavy as he immediately had to rest one on the back of his chair. Gaz proudly stated he was a banker before announcing he was heading to Dubai on holiday and had to get his grooming done before he left. As he said this he winked and ran both hands down his chest. I was a little bit sick in my mouth.
The Sixth Bae of Christmas:
Thank God, it was Woody. We headed to the bar for a much-needed drink and debriefed on our dates so far. Woody didn’t seem to be having much more success than me, to the extent that when conversations were getting really dire he had taken to telling his dates that I was his girlfriend. When standing close to Woody one could also still smell the alcohol fumes, remnant of a large Saturday night and a factor that was arguably working against him with his potential baes. All too soon the bell went and I returned to my seat in the hope that a speed date still could change my life…