Number Six

   I have always wondered what it would be like to have a five minute date with twenty two random men in one night.  I couldn't see how it was possible getting to know somebody in less than five minutes.  I couln't see how it was possible to not fine one thing interesting in twenty two men.
  
   My colleague begged me for weeks to register for a speed dating night here in Austin.  Speed dating?? Like, how they do it in the movies? Don't they usually end up going terrible wrong? After two weeks of sending me constant reminders and pokes through our school e-mail, I finally caved and agreed to try it " just this once".  I mean, how bad can it be? 
 
     I took some time to review the website.  I had to pay 35 dollars to register and get my number.  However, there was only one problem, registration for men was free.  What? Isn't it usally the other way around?  This instantly gave me a bad vibe about the whole " speed dating" thing.  My friend was super excited and wouldn't stop talking about it.  I, on the other hand, was 35 dollars short with nothing to wear. 

   The day approached me way to fast.  All these days I was thinking horribly very bad no good thoughts about this event and I found myself.......nervous.  Butterflies swarmed my tummy and I spent the majority of my lunch break pondering on this one very important question:  flip flops.... or heels?  I took my lean cuisine and decided to see how my colleague was feeling about this silliness that was about to occur.  I enter her room to find her sitting in front of her computer, trying to back out.  WHAT?  Oh.. hell...no.   She did not spend weeks persuading me into this mess and here she is trying to get her money back?  So, it was my turn to persuade.  Well, actually it was more like a threat.  It worked.

     I went home and stood in my closet for about ten minutes.  My pup sat next to me as if she was going too.  I was asking her what she thinks I should wear, as if she was going to answer me.  Is this what dating does to you?  Talking to a dog that probably won't respond.  Oh, I use "probably" because I swear Loela understands me and will one day respond to me. Ha.  I pull out some "skinny" jeans and a tank top.  I imagined myself tumbling across the lounge in my high heels so I decide to wear my flip flops.  Besides, what if I need to make a run for it?

     I painted my face pretty and gave my chocolate brown locks a curl.  The butterflies went from fluttering to strait up disco dancing.  Loela rested on my bed and watched me get ready.  I was wanting to feel content like her.  Thirty five dollars?  Goodness.  This better be ONE hell of a speed date.  I glossed my kisser with my notorious chicka cherry glistener.  I took one look at myself and took a deep breath.  This should be interesting!  I put all my girly necessities in my clutch and made my way downstairs.  Kissed Loela goodbye and told her to wish me luck.  I think I might have heard her actually say it.  Haha.

    Driving to the lounge seemed long.  I don't know how I could have went from not caring  about this event to being extrememly nervous.  I felt like I was going up to bat in the 8th inning with two strikes and twenty to single successful men were watching, with their score sheets and mini pencils.  Sign in was at 8:00 sharp.  I was able to talk this guy whose parking lot was full to squeeze my truck somewhere close so I didn't have to walk and get all winded and stuff.  I mean, they don't call them skinny jeans for nothing.  The longer I stay stuffed in them, the more I can't breathe.  Hmm, note to self: no more skinny jeans if... I'm not skinny?

    I walk in the lounge to find my friend sipping on a Jack and Coke.  Noone had a name tag on so I didn't know if the guys sitting next to me was a speed dater.  We sat and chatted for about thirty minutes until we were called to circle up and get our numbers.  That's right, we weren't going to be known for our names, but for our numbers.  Like prison?  Ugh, here we go.  I signed in with a bright red pen, signing my life away on the dotted line that said " we are not responsible for any accidents or tragedies that may occur if you choose to date your match"  Wait... did they do a background check on these guys?  I mean, they didn't have to pay. Ugh.  Give me my number already. 

     I made sure that while everybody was sticking post-its with their numbers on it that I didn't take a second to look around.  I didn't want to see who I was going to be dating.  Perhaps I feared I wouldn't find anyone attractive and my whole "speed dating" experience would go to shit before it even began.   We were told to find our tables with our numbers on it and sit down.  It was like a herd of pretty cattle roaming around trying to find a place to graze.  Candles illuminated the room and they had Adele singing in the background.  I like Adele.  I like candles.  Don't smell the candle, Megan.. don't.. smell the candle. 

    I found my number waiting for me on this little square table in the corner of the lounge.  It was the perfect little nook to be in during an event such as this.  My back was not facing anybody and I had a clear view of everybody.  At least I was going to have a good idea of who was about to come to my table.  I ran my fingers through my hair and applied another dab of lip gloss.  I really wanted to spritz my new perfume on but I didn't want to be sitting in a cloud of smell good. 

     The rules were simple.  Men rotate and women stay seated.  I mean come on, if they were free why should they stay seated?  Lets make them work  alittle here!!   We had three to eight minutes to talk to each dater and when we heard the bell, the men would rotate to the next table.  Easy enough.  DING!!!!!!   Wait, I wasn't ready.

      The first dater approached my table and introduced himself as Rufis.  Like, the dog in Aristocrats?   No, I didn't say that aloud but I did find myself thinking that.  Then I thought to myself, are we allowed to give fake names? Oh stop it Megan, maybe that was is real name.  Have some confidence.  I suddenly felt like I was in a job interview except this time I was interviewing for a chance to find "the one".  I will be the one asking the questions tonight.  We began talking about our interests and what we do for a living.  He was an franchise attorney and loved the show How I Met Your Mother.  Handome.  I would like to get to .....DING.....

     The next guy that approached my table was a dentist from Killeen.  With teeth so white, they almost looked blue.  Cute but not my type.  DING.. The next few guys gave me some good conversation and a couple of laughs here and there.  I even met a guy who lives in the same apartment complex as I do.  Freaky.  I didn't mention I lived there too.  Just in case.  Not to mention I did sign my life away and and kissed my rights away to get justice if I am hurt in any way possible.  The night was going great.  Even though I hadn't found any matches, I was really enjoying getting to know different people.  I had a good glass of wine and five to eight minutes of good company from some interesting people.  DING... DING........DING......

     I sat there wondering if I was going to find a match any time soon.  I sipped my wine and responding to my friends morse code that she was sending me with the clicks of her pen.  One click : NO WAY, two clicks: A match.  I had alot of one clicks.  As I was recording their information on this little chart, I hear this deep voice telling me his name.  A hand slips under my face as if he was trying to get my attention.  It was so hairy and his nails were filthy.  I shook his hand as gently as I could trying NOT to get whatever was on the palm of his hands onto mine.  I looked up and to my horror sat a man who resembled the BTK killer.  If you are not familiar with the BTK killer, please google now.  He was a notorious murderer in the 1970's and after a 30 year break, came back to kill again in the early 2000's.  He had the same glasses, the same eyes and the same facial features.  OMG... he looks like the BTK killer.  Don't stare. Concentrate. Ask him questions.  Ask... ask. now. Stop staring.

     I knew that he probably wasn't anything like the BTK killer.  However, my woman radar went off like crazy.  Maybe it's because I just saw a documentary on the BTK killer a week before the speed date.  He went on to tell me that he works in a lumber yard and rides his motorcycle cross country as a habit.  I know this man is not a match so, why did the lady let this round go on for eight minutes? Awkard silence overcame the table. The flame to my candle flickered as if it was laughing at me.   "So...tell me about yours"....   DINNNNG!!!    Oh thank goodness.
  
"LAST ROUND.. THIS IS THE LAST..ROUND". 

  A part of me wanted to shout out for joy, yet,  the other half was disappointed that out of twenty two men, I did not mark one single "yes" on my match sheet.  I'm not that picky anymore.  However, It was like one big melting pot, filled with testosterone and smell goods.  Many glossy lips left not so glossy.  A few people stayed after to see if they can catch any leftover  prey before walking into the darkness of their single lives.  When you have loved before, it is hard to find someone who can one up that person. 

   I will totally speed date again.  It was interesting and it sure was fun seeing just how different alot of men really are.

 When I was walking out of the lounge and saw all the empty tables and bartender blowing out all the candles that so beautifully lit up the faces of men searching for love, I thought of a part from this song that fit so perfectfully with this puzzle of love.

 So long my luckless romance, my back is turned to you. Should have known you'd bring me heartbreak. Almost lovers always do.

How to make speed dating just a little more sweeter?     Cupcakes :P 
Picture courtesy of Google pics