What is speed dating?
SPEED DATING!! As you can tell, I’m yelling. That’s how excited I was to do speed dating. Well at least that’s how excited I was about the idea of doing speed dating. I don’t know anyone that’s actually done speed dating, so all of my knowledge about speed dating comes from super cliché movies, likes 40 Year Old Virgin and Hitch. And if movies have taught me anything, it’s that they’re always true to real life, just like that time Will Smith and Jeff Goldblum fought a race of aliens and saved the earth on the 4th of July, yeah, just like that. So my over romanticize and idealized expectations for speed dating were pretty high.
I mean, doesn’t it sound like fun? You get to meet 10 to 15 new females, on these 5-7 minute mini dates, and at the end you pick which ones you want to be your soul mate? I mean the romantic in me, loves the idea of potentially meeting my forever person, in this fun, unique, we have a great origin story, kind of way. I say some clever opening line, she laughs and for the next 6 minutes and 56 seconds we proceed to have the best conversation anyone on planet Earth has ever had. And at the end of the 7 minutes, we take one last lingering look deep into each other eyes, and we just know. We just know.
At least that’s how I thought it should go down.
I WAS SO EXCITED (this is me yelling again) FOR SPEED DATING, and then, like all of sudden, I was kind of nervous about it as the actual speed dating day came. Like more nervous than I thought I would be. And not nervous because I’m nervous about talking to another human being face to face, but nervous because what if it sucks. What if the girls suck. What if I’m not as funny, charming, modest, smart, strong, witty and modest as I think I am. Yes I said modest twice, yes it’s a joke. But really, what if I am unable to have a decent conversation with these ladies for 7 minutes. It was kind of an irrational fear I kept playing over and over in my head. And look, ask anyone that knows me in real life, I’m funny, like real world funny and a pretty good conversationalist and not shy, like at all. Except after 11 drinks, my words get a little slurry, I don’t recommend talking to me after that many drinks, or even pretending to know me, but I digress. Moral of the story, I was nervous. Nervous that I would forget how to speak English and be forced to communicate with the person across the table from me with a series of awkward eye blinks.
Well I guess that’s not the moral of the story, but you get what I’m saying.
My buddy Vic also wanted to try out speed dating, and there’s safety in numbers so we both show up 30 minutes early to BJ’s Brewery in Mission Valley. We thought it would be a good idea to have a drink or 12 before the event. As we walked in, we saw the patio outside where they were setting up for what looked like the battle arena of where the speed dating was going to be taking place. We walked to the bar, ordered a drink and proceeded to speculate about every girl and guy that then walked into the bar, sizing them up as either competition or potential speed date partners. Which was actually, a very interesting thought experiment, you know, watching every guy that walked in and making analyses, judgments and assumption about what that guy was all about and if he would be a competitive threat. It turns out, I have very high self esteem and can talk down almost every guy that walked into the bar. Or maybe I’m just a judgmental asshole? Either way I felt pretty good about judging Hipster Harry, Muscles Mcgee and East County Flat Brimmed Barry. As it turns out, all the guys my friend and I assessed and judged in our 30 minutes predrink at the bar, weren’t even involved with speed dating. So it turns out I’m just an asshole.
We make our way outside promptly at 7:29 thinking we would be late, since the event starts at 7:30, but it only looked to be about half full. As you walk in, you sign in and are told to find your starting seating. And this is where it begins, as the next part of the blog is going to be a breakdown of the different types of people I would meet over the next hour, or at least the ones I remember, and the memorable conversations we had. Now, hopefully this doesn’t come off as mean, or me being a judgey jerk face. But this is what I do remember? I’m a blogger. I write about it. So if you’re going to get offended and comment “How could you write those things about those people, you don’t even know them, you’re an asshole”, please stop reading now. But you’re not going to, you’re going to continue to read on, and still think I’m an asshole.
And I don’t even know what the word vomit I’m going to write yet, so this apology might be all for not. I guess let’s just see where this goes.
1st Date – The Tween
I wondered the outside patio looking like a lost puppy, as I read the name tags with note cards placed on each chair until I finally found my name tag, and sat down. Your initially seating is your “first date”, and there was already somebody sitting across from me. I situated, took a deep breathe, made eye contact and initiated a solid, friendly “hello”. Game on. As we started talking , I got a closer look at the person sitting across from me and noticed, she looked “young”.
She must have noticed that I looked “older” too, or noticed me noticing, because her third question in was “So how old are you?” I confidentially answered 31. I returned the question, she fired back with, wait for it… 21. 21 YEARS YOUNG. I know, I know, some of you clowns are going to be like “My parents are 10 years apart, blah blah blah, counter example, blah blah blah”. But let’s be real, 31 and 21 are worlds apart. WORLDS. Maybe it if was 31 and 41, but 21 and 31 is just ridiculous. Maybe it’s ridiculous because I think of 21 year old me and what a clown that guy way. But we continue our conversation, which is actually going really well. Next she asked me “if I play video games”, which sounds like a trap. Right? Or maybe that’s just because 31 year old me knows now, if I answer “Yes I play video games, I have a level 78 paladin that is spec-ed out in fire magic” the girl would probably walk out right then and there.
I don’t play video games, not really, I might play 30 minutes of Call of Duty a week, since I have to multitask at every moment because I have ADD, it’s usually when I’m cooking something and have to “do something” while things are cooking. Anyways, it’s fucking trap when she ask because I assume she’s asking in the “OMG, are you like one of those grown ass men that just sits around and plays video games all day”. So I responded with “psssssh, of course I don’t play video games, I’m too busy with real life.” She gave a look, and that’s when I remembered she was 21, and I probably answered that question wrong. She then goes into a spiel about how she plays League of Legends, “like all the time”. Which for those of you that don’t know, it’s a game that involves wizards and mana. I think? THAT’S HOW OLD I AM, I don’t even fucking known. Whatever, she’s probably never even played the original Mario Kart for SNES. That was my jam.
Conversation continues despite me feeling like her un-cool dad that doesn’t play video games. Turns out she’s still in school, OF COURSE SHE’S STILL IN SCHOOL SHE’S ONLY 21. She starts talking about her upcoming calculus final, which then leads the conversation down the path of derivatives and integrals. It was probably at the moment when we were discussing solving integrals of spherical volumes that I knew this wasn’t going to be my person. But maybe she’s would like a math tutor or someone to play pokemon with, or whatever the fuck kids are into these days. 6 minutes are up, the bell is rang, time to move onto the next one.
2nd Date – Gina
Yes this is a 40 Year Old Virgin movie reference, and yes I think this is an accurate description. Watch this clip:
Her voice was deep and raspy, she was heavy set, and swore like a pirate. We had great banter, decent conversation, but in the end I don’t want to be with anyone that makes me feel like I’m the delicate flower in the relationship.
3rd Date – That’s So L.A.
I call the 3rd date, “That’s so L.A.”. She was dressed like she was going on Millionaire Maker, which is fine, but do you think Millionaire Match maker guys are coming to speed dating at BJ’s Brewery in Mission Valley?
Her body posture said “I HATE BEING HERE AND TALKING TO YOU”, and the physical words out of her mouth said “I HATE BEING HERE AND TALKING YOU”. I don’t understand what this person was doing here, like at all. It seemed like she hated every moment of it. And I was glad to hear and see, she had the same interaction with everyone, not just me. I asked her in what areas of San Diego she likes to go out in, she replied with “I don’t really go out in San Diego, I’m more of an L.A. night life person”. Considering the weekend before I was at a dive that resides between a fast food Mexican restaurant and laundry mat called the Cherrybomb , I don’t think it was going to work out for me and Ms. L.A.
4th Date – The Cast Away
This girl literally, literally, started the conversation with “I’m kind of a lone wolf”. I kind of half awkward chuckled, and asked her what she meant. She told me that she has been on a navy ship for almost 10 years, and she was a little out of the loop. She then proceeded to tell me that there is online dating now. Like no joke, she brought it up to my attention, in case I didn’t know, that you can now “online date” on “computers”. I felt like she was Tom Hanks in Cast Away when he first comes back to society after being stuck on the island for all those years. Or like in Jumanji when Robin Williams comes back from being stuck inside the board game for 30 years.
She was kind of weird. Like really weird. I don’t think I could get past the fact she doesn’t understand the technology of online dating. I totally have respect and thank her for her service, but it’s probably not going to work out.
5th Date –Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion
This PAIR was….was…interesting? Yes, I said pair. It turns out there were more girls that guys that signed up for speed dating, so a few girls had to date in pairs. Since most girls came in pairs, this wasn’t too weird for them to be paired up with the friend they came with. I actually found it easier to talk to two girls, as I enjoy talking more to crowd rather than one on one. The first thing I thought when I sat down in front of these two was “Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion”.
I don’t know why, I just did. It was like a word association, except it wasn’t with another word, it was based on how they were dressed and how they presented themselves. To be fair, I’ve never actually seen the movie, but I imagine had I actually watched it, I would still totally agree with my first initial impression.
They were literally dressed like Romy and Michele. Literally. I mean, maybe not literally, but they both had on bright colors, short skirts and other “blingy” accessories, I just remember thinking, that’s a little bit much for this event, no? Keep in mind we’re at a BJ’s Brewery in Mission Valley, on a Wednesday night. We start chatting, and within the first 42 seconds of conversation they mentioned “Oh we’re bloggers”.
Huge red flag, bloggers are the worst kind of people. The worst. Well let me clarify, there are bloggers that blog kind of quietly and anonymously, and don’t really care if people know they have a blog or not.
And then there’s the blogger that stands on a mountain and lets everyone know they’re a blogger within the first 15 seconds of speaking to them. We all have this friend, we all know this person. They will YELL IN YOUR FACE about how they are a writers and bloggers and better than you.
I would say I’m kind of in the middle.
And look, I’m not saying I don’t whore out my blog, I absolutely do. Absolutely. But 99.8 percent of that is online. I will tweet,facebook and snapchat pictures of my junk until my face is blue promoting this blog. BUT you will never (rarely) hear me in real life tell anyone I wrote a new blog or I’m a blogger. I’m actually kind of embarrassed about it when people bring it up. That’s why Real Life Steve is separate from Single Steve. I mean it’s a blog about how pathetic my love life is. I guess that might be the problem, I’m embarrassed this blog is about not having sex vs OMG everyone come read how fabulous my life is. Hmmmm….anyways, bloggers are the worst kind of people.
So I find out Romy and Michele are bloggers. And they are the “OMG everyone come read how fabulous my life is” kind of bloggers. They’re attractive traveling nurses, and their life is better than mine. At least that’s the impression I got when talking to them. I also mentioned I had a blog, I think they wrote it down? They’re the kind of girls that know they’re pretty, and have been told they’re pretty their whole lives, and can act accordingly. I know this is probably a gross generalization of them based on my 6 minute interaction, but I’m entitled to my first impression.
I have no idea what they thought of me, but I selected them as I would like to match with them, since they were “the prettiest ones there” just out of curiosity, but they didn’t match with me. WHAMMY. From their blog:
There were definitely all sorts of people at this speed dating event. Tall, short, brunette, blonde, bald, edgy, artsy, and the socially awkward. It was great for the first hour talking to people but after that it got pretty repetitive and we became bored.
Becca once again fell sort on her fabulous dating ideas….. Welcome to single hood. And no we will not be following up on our select few matches we received.
After reading what I just wrote about these two girls, I’ve come to the conclusion I either hate other bloggers, or that I hate “That girl that has the I’m so pretty complex”. I don’t know which one it is, maybe it’s both.
There were actually 6 more people I met during the speed dating hour, but this blog is getting long and I think you get the point. All of them could have been a character in a movie that had a hilarious speed dating scene.
There was not a single person I met that I thought to myself “Wow, I hope she matches with me!”. Which is something you kind of need. You need to be excited about it. At least a little bit, like just the tip, just for a second, just to see how it feels. It shouldn’t be, “meh, she was okay and didn’t stab me in those 6 minutes, I guess I could take her out on a date”.
When it was all said and done I “selected” 5 people to match with and 4 people matched with me. The only one that didn’t match was one of the Romy and Michele girls. I’m okay with that.
And what is probably common in these speed dating experiences, I probably won’t be following up with the people I matched with, as they probably won’t be following up with me.
Speed dating was exactly what I thought it was going to be. An experience. A thing I had always wanted to do, and finally did it. I probably wouldn’t do it again. I recommend it for those that are curious about doing it. It wasn’t awful. But I’m willing to bet that 90 percent of the time people who get matches do not contact the other person. Everyone I interacted with said it was their first time doing speed dating, and I’m sure they were doing it for the same reasons I was. Desperation and fear of dying old and alone. I mean curiosity. They we’re there out of curiosity.