Thursday, November 19, 2015

SPEED DATING FROM HELL

     
     There it was.  It filled the dimly lit crowded Brazilian restaurant, desperation was upon us.  It was there in the group of men standing in the corner waiting for a seat to open so they could talk with one of the three women they were interested in.  They stood around looking at these women with more hunger then they did the okra, sliced sausage and chicken under the heat lamps of the buffet behind them.  I was no different.  On my last date, the girl ended up crashing her car into a motorcycle parked a mere five feet behind her.

     For the first few minutes it was fun to just listen and observe.  This whole macabre social scene was like a Ralph Steadman drawing.  All you could hear were thirty conversations going on at once.  This chatter blended together to make up the white noise that filled this chicken coup of the undatable.  The place doubled as a sports bar which explained the boxing match being projected on a large screen from a vacant raised dining floor off to the side.

     To be clear this was my first time going to an event like this.  I am struck by how it all paints the picture of what being single is like.  The women sit at their tables waiting for the next man to move down the line and take a seat.  Like the brightly colored tail feathers of a male peacock; the women sat patiently waiting for the men to impress them.  It's a little thing called sexual selection; isn't nature grand?  One of these guys waiting in the wings was Joey; a muscular gym rat with dark curly hair who conveniently stuck his name tag sticker onto the side of his right bicep.   I was practically forced into a seat to talk with the first lady of the evening. Asunti is a thirty-eight year old banker who recently moved to Florida.  “I've never been to one of these before,” she says.  It must be everyone's first time I think.  Asunti was a nice girl; it was clear from the beginning we were incompatible.  We had nothing in common and no physical attraction to each other, yet we smiled and carried out a conversation like two strangers coming out of the fog.  I looked at it like a practice round for the next encounter; who turned out to be Victoria.  She was a full figured red head with blue eyes and a confidence about her.  Victoria was the best this gathering had to offer and she knew it.  She formally served in the Navy and now works as an accountant.  She likes movies so I eagerly tell her about a movie I made recently.  Realizing that this is what made me unique out of this pack of wolves, I focused on the film making.

     There are countless ways to make a bad first impression with a girl and I have experienced enough of them first hand to know what to avoid.  I tell Victoria that I work in the entertainment department of a theme park and she immediately asks about the free passes that come with the job.  When you get right down to it isn't that what a dating transaction is all about; getting something in return from one another?  I tell her how leaving something behind that could live long after you're dead is why I am happy to be an artist.  Then just as I'm about to tell her my theory that this is also why people have children, the host of the event taps my shoulder.  My time is up, I quickly move on after I say goodbye.

     There is one more girl I was hoping to meet, so I wait.  I wait for the seat across from the lady with the long blonde hair to be left bare.  Then it happens, I slowly walk up as she takes out her cellphone after being left alone for only a few seconds.  I approach the table and say “That was close, you were almost alone for a whole minute”, as I look down at my wrist for a watch that was not there.   Katy smiles and I take my seat. This girl is not what I expected, she is easy going, a nursing student.  This conversation is just like the one with Victoria, only more hopeful.  Katy stands and announces that she has to use the restroom.  I see a tall gift bag that hangs from her arm.  “It's a bottle of wine,” she says, “a prize for finding a person with a matching number.”  She was referring to the index cards the host handed out to us at the door with a number written on it.  My number was 22; as in, if I was twenty-two I would probably not be single and have to be here.

     Before Katy walks toward the bathroom I tell her “I'll hold the fort.”  Did I really just say that?  Awww man.  I think about things to say for a while while I wait for her to return.  I need to be prepared, I don't want to screw this up.  Three minutes go by and then everyone stands in unison and charges toward the bar as if there was a pre-planned signal to disperse that I must have missed.  Still no sign of Katy, I stay at the table as promised.  Five minutes pass before I hit the exit.  Once outside I throw away my name tag with disdain, like a nightclub wristband after an evening you will wake up to regret.  This was my first time going to an event like this I thought, and it is sure to be the last.



- Curt Wiser is the Writer/Director of the thriller Cam-Girl and author of the suspense novel Box Cutter Killer.  






Tags: speed dating, Ralph Steadman, Hunter S. Thompson, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, love, romance, single life, bachelor