Fifty Dates

I’m exhausted, ready to fall asleep on my keyboard as I reminisce. I recently had fifty dates in one night. That’s right, FIFTY dates. I met more guys in that one night than I typically meet in months. And the ecstasy (or agony) of it, is that it took just a couple of hours. You see, I attended a marathon speed dating event – a newer, faster, speedier type of speed dating that is perfect for time starved people used to bonding by texting, twitting, and Facebook. While I am not a huge fan of any of these modes of connecting, the idea appealed to me. There is something very catchy about the concept of meeting fifty people, even if it is for only two minutes each. That’s right, TWO MINUTES each. What can you learn about someone in just two minutes? Turns out, quite a lot.

Ariel, my first date, is nervous as he fumbles with his drinks and makes small talk. I find this rather endearing and think him to be quite cute with his wire-rim glasses and middle-Eastern accent. He tells me he is a dentist and I find myself trying to cover my smile and thinking that he might just be perfect for me given my recently discovered adoration for pearly whites.

A bevy of men follow – Bob, Carlos, David, Edwin, Fred. I take notes furiously but am usually only able to make note of their profession or appearance, which seems to be the only way for me to keep track of them. I try not to rate them based only on appearances though as looks can be deceiving. Despite this, I can’t help but fall for Greg’s dazzling blue eyes and dimples, Harrison’s arms and shoulders that beg to be petted like a pet, and Ivan’s cool black Buddy Holly glasses and curly hair that my fingers itch to touch. I feel so shallow.

With regards to conversing, it is tough to fit much into one hundred and twenty seconds. But every once in awhile, I meet someone that I enjoy talking with so much that I am saddened when the bell tolls. Jason and I talk dogs and he offers up the name of a dogumentary that I might like. Kyle makes me laugh with his tales of hedge fund transactions gone awry. And, Lance draws me in with his Southern drawl and knowledge of where to find good Southern style food in the city.

If I do not feel a spark through appearance or conversation, I pass on the gents. And there are plenty that don’t make the grade. Mark rubs shoulders with me and asks what will make him stand out from the other guys. Ugh, the stink of competition puts me off. Neil is so bored that he literally stares at the wall behind me in silence. Oscar dashes off to use the bathroom during our two minute date and doesn’t have time to apologize. There is no doubt that Paul is gay with his Malibu Sea Breeze, well manicured nails, and continual references of his love for Madonna. While I support gay rights, I would rather stick to dating heterosexual males. Quincy says I look like Petty Paige (a compliment) and then asks me if I’m into kinky stuff like her (not a compliment). Roy is a personal trainer who I can practically feel calculating my BMI and the calories in my merlot. When I ask Sam what he likes to do for fun, he boldly says, “I like to have sex.” Enough said.

At the end of the night, I’m in need of a shot, a massage, and a bed, preferably in that order. Despite the exhaustion, I’ve met quite a few guys that I want to chat with further. In fact, I’ve decided to select about twenty of them. If they select me too, our contact information will be shared with each other. Overall, I am happy that I decided to try marathon speed dating at least once. Where else would I meet this many guys in one night? And, perhaps after fifty rounds, there will be a few fellows smitten enough to meet for coffee that goes well beyond two minutes.