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10 guys, 8 minutes. That doesn’t sound sanitary.


Last night I went speed dating. Because I said I would. And because I had this idea that speed dating (being all face-to-facey and small-talky), would be populated by gentlemen with more social skills than those lurking in the internet.

Bzzt! FALSE!

It was AMAZING, gang! STUNNING. Like the sun glinting off a MASSIVE TRAIN WRECK on a warm spring day. Like baby goats frolicking in a mine field, if the baby goats were ten relatively normal chicks and the mines were ALL COMPUTER PROGRAMMERS, who had clearly never left their mothers’ basements.

Okay, that’s a lie. They weren’t ALL programmers. One of them was a farmer! With a lazy eye. Who asked me, two minutes in, if he could pick me up from work tomorrow. SERIOUSLY, WHO DOES THAT! “Oh, you work at the hospital? CAN I COME VISIT YOU THERE TOMORROW?”

My response made the other six minutes of our ‘date’ kind of awkward. Way to derail our conversation about slaughtering cattle, dude!

A heavily overweight gentleman with a long ginger goatee slapped a spreadsheet down in front of me and spent his eight allotted minutes checking off whether or not I liked his favourite zombie movies. I totally aced that, so he asked me, pen poised, how I felt about watching a dude play Xbox.

Another equally unwashed fellow with dubious facial hair told me about his time seeking out Nazi hotspots in Germany.

Several of them looked confused by all the lights and people, and seemed uncomfortable at being expected to use their mouths to make words. And several of them were tiny and adorable, like little fuzzy mogwai that I kinda wanted to adopt and feed vegetables and introduce to natural light.

 I have nothing against nerds, so we’re clear. I’d hit this. HARD.

Most of them, for unknown reasons, were British. Does this reflect on the United Kingdom as a whole? I do not know!

I wonder about the other ladies in the room, because I can at least hold my own in any given conversation about dragons or spaceships. I have enough nerd points I can spend to pass my conversational time, but I have a feeling anyone in that room with normal interests would have been stuck like a bear in a tar pit. You’re into parties and indoor netball? Is that a speed metal band? Did they have a booth at Armageddon? WANNA WATCH ME PLAY XBOX?

VERDICT: Funny, in an I-maybe-need-to-slit-my-wrists kind of way. Good for a few interesting conversations and some complimentary booze. Guys should definitely look into it, because all the chicks seemed well put together and normal, and the lone dude who appeared to have active social skills will probably make some BANK this weekend.


“Congratulations! You are among those people that have scored the highest number of ‘yes’ votes at any speed-dating event; you have consequently been awarded ‘Elite’ membership status. Only people that attract a ‘yes’ votes from at least 70% of the people they meet achieve ‘Elite’ status.”

AHA. AHAHAHAHA. Life! Why you gotta be so hilar? I can’t even cope!

Posted by

Writer of things. Annoyer of cats. Mother of very small dragons.

2 Comments Join the Conversation

  1. I'd watch another dude play Xbox.

    From what I gather the majority of the UK is full of those dag-gobbling nerds.


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