Speed Dating -- The Conclusion

Shall I begin at the end, and end at the beginning? Or shall I start at the beginning and end at the end... Nah, let's start somewhere in the middle, coz it makes the most sense that way.

As some of you already know I had a place at a Speed Dating event last Saturday. The event was supposed to start at 6pm and last to 8:30pm; I, together with 14 other women, was supposed to meet 15 men who I could chat to for 5 mins each. After each "date" we would fill in a score card, which the event organisers would collect, and if there was a match -- voila! We have a chance at romance. Sounds simple enough, right?

Not quite.

About three weeks ago I was invited out to lunch by one of my colleagues who I have been bouldering with, together with other work associates, on Wednesday nights after work. After the second time that we had lunch together, by which time he knew about my upcoming Speed Date, he asked me out to dinner and drinks. Tame enough, I know him, not threatening, and a chance of good companionship and a good conversation over dinner. Totally harmless, right? So I accepted.

Dinner took place on Friday night; I chose the restaurant, an Italian place not far from our office, because I know the owner well. We had a wonderful dinner, followed by drinks (non-alcoholic for me) in a small bar where we were given a small corner table away from all the other customers. Very cozy corner indeed. As the night grew into the early morning we decided to call it an evening: he took me to the nearest taxi queue and we said goodbye to each other... is what I would really love to write but here's what really happened: I went over to give him a hug to say thank you for the evening, but instead I ended up being held in his arms, lost in the moment, suspended in motion like the dense particles in a Barium meal. I do not know how long I was there in his arms, but as we slowly broke off I turned my head to kiss his cheek... but that was not happening. It just felt more natural as I watched his lips for a breath or two, and we ended up kissing quite passionately for a while. Then the spell was broken, and it was time for me to get into my cab.

I went home that night feeling confused, flustered, and excited.

Saturday, the day of the Speed Date, was a hectic day: Yoga at 8:00am, hair appointment at 11:00 am, followed by lunch, and getting ready for the evening's "pièce de résistance" -- Speed Dating. (Oh, and after that I was going to meet the girls to give them a ho-down of all the nitty gritty details about this fascinating event.)

By quarter to Five I was fully made up, and ready to go, but I knew I had at least 30mins to spare, so I decided to take a small nap considering that I had slept only 3 hours the night before. I set my alarm, put some music on, rested my head on my cushions, and laid down on my comfy sofa...

I never made it to the Speed Dating event, for I slept right through my alarm, my music, my friends calling me... I was off in a dreamy world where there was no need for me to rush thru and psychoanalise 15 men in 75 minutes to see if they were worthy of a second encounter. I did not have to tick off a score card to rate the men that I just interviewed for a position as my boyfriend/lover. None of that shite. Nope. I just slept right thru everything.

In the end I called up all my girlfriends and told them that I slept thru the Speed Date: their conclusion was that there was a good reason WHY I slept thru i.e. I would have been disappointed by the scum and creeps that showed up, so I ended up having a girls's night out at a small bistro. In retrospect, I am more inclined to believe that I fell asleep that Saturday because there really was no need for me to go on a Speed Date. I had already met a nice candidate more than two months ago; it's just taken me *this long* to realise that he was always there to hold me, and to make me feel special. Fuck the Speed Date! I'll just stick to people that really care about me, and see beyond my appearances to share my life with.

So there.