SPEED DATING.
I immediately recalled my first speed dating experience from my freshman year of college. After reminiscing over that excursion, I realized that I had stopped in front of the flier and had been staring at it for who knows how long. Hopefully not long enough for anyone to notice me standing there.
As soon as I scurried off from it, I pulled out my phone and started typing.
COME TO SPEED DATING WITH ME TONIGHT PLEASE IT'D BE HILARIOUS I BEG YOU.
I texted this to all my friends. Four no's and one yes later (okay, I have more than five friends; "all" was an exaggeration), it was set. I would be speed dating that evening. I wanted to live out the 40-Year-Old Virgin (without the "40-year-old virgin" part). I don't understand people who like to feel comfortable all the time. Where's the fun in that? I have no fun or interesting stories that happened when I felt comfortable.
So I was reading a book in my room. It was so normal!
Great story, man.
Okay okay, I got it. One time, I sat on the toilet. I was completely by myself in the bathroom.
Me too. Multiple times.
Well what about the time I was happy and looked incredibly attractive?
What about it?
See? That's not fun. It's more amusing when you feel completely uncomfortable with yourself. If I was reading a book in my room, and then shit my pants, and then had to run in the bathroom to clean it up, but there were four dudes in there sucking each other, and so then I felt shocked and I ran away but then I tripped and fell and busted my head open on the wooden floor and the blood poured into my eyeballs and I was temporarily blinded and a baby bit my big toe...now I have a story. One awkward, incredible story.
I walked to speed dating with the only friend who had agreed to come with me.
"Aren't you excited?!" I exclaimed.
"I have nothing better to do. I can't believe none of your other friends agreed to do this!" he said.
"Yeah, we have to make this entertaining so we can tell them how much they missed out."
"I'm gonna yell at everyone."
"I'm gonna say my parents named me after a James Bond character."
"Which one?"
"Pussy Galore."
"I'm gonna ask if I can only talk to men."
"I'm gonna walk in and say, 'Is this not The Swingers Meeting? I'm sorry, I must have the wrong place!' "
Needless to say, we were ready. We were so ready, in fact, that we were the first ones there.
"Uh, Natasha, there's no one in there. Are you sure this is tonight?"
We peered through the windows of the GIANT meeting room that had about fifteen tables set up encircling the perimeter.
"Yes, yes, it's tonight. Look, there's the flier. I'll prove it to you. See? Speed dating at seven...thirty. Oops."
"Let's go outside and come back in half an hour."
Half and hour soon passed, and it was time to date rapidly. I was ready to break my personal record of the maximum amount of dates I could go on in one night. And in one place, for that matter.
We walked back to the room, peering in the windows.
"Uh, Natasha, there's still no one in there."
"Yeah but look! Look over there! NOW!"
I turned my friend around because he refused to look where I was pointing because he was being an ASSHOLE and I showed him the target of my attention. It was a boy.
"That guy - is definitely going to speed dating," I whispered.
I won't physically describe him because I, too, was being an asshole. A sincere asshole, but an asshole nonetheless.
And an accurate asshole, because then he walked into the speed dating room.
Does being right cancel out being judgmental?
"My throat hurts," my friend randomly said.
"Oh...I'm sorry."
"I mean, it really hurts, Natasha."
"I believe you. Didn't doubt it for a second."
"It hurts so much I don't even want to speak."
"DON'T YOU DARE."
"Seriously, Natasha. My throat is killing me and ---"
"NO. NO. NO."
"I'm not going to be able to talk ---"
"I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU ARE DOING THIS TO ME."
"If I could just find a cough drop..."
Then a mutual acquaintance of ours approached.
"Hey guys, what're you doing?"
"YOU. COME TO SPEED DATING WITH ME."
"Speed what?"
"SPEED DATING. NOW. LIKE RIGHT NOW. LET'S GO."
"Um...okay...let me grab my jacket..."
And by "jacket," he meant three other people.
"YES!"
It was now two girls, three boys, and a successful disappearing act from the friend I had initially came with. We signed in, the other girl under the pseudonym of 'Jennifer Aniston,' and we walked in. That's when we heard the music.
What's it called? Slow jamz? Baby-makin' music? Whatever. The kind of music R. Kelly would put on to get a girl in the sack.
Then we saw the tables. They were covered in rose petals.
What kind of organized orgy is this?
"I can't do this," one of the guys said.
We tried to leave, but one of the monitors stopped us.
"Please stay. Y'all just stay. Please? Stay. This is more of just a meeting group now."
And so we stayed. Which I wanted to do in the first place.
The six of us sat at one table, while one girl and one boy (the one I had predicted to be there) sat at a table on the opposite end of the enormous room. A monitor walked up to them and asked if they were having a good time, and the girl replied,
"Oh, have we started? This is my brother."
The six of us sat at one table, while a pair of siblings sat at another.
US AND BRO AND SIS. WHAT KIND OF INCESTUOUS ORGANIZED ORGY IS THIS.
"I have a girlfriend," one guy at my table said.
"Yeah, I have a boyfriend," I replied.
Two people in a relationship, three singles, one fake Jennifer Aniston, and two family members - all at Speed Dating.
"Alright, let's begin!" a woman said, speaking into a microphone.
Begin? There were thirteen tables empty. Were we going to go back and forth between two tables?
So I was reading a book in my room. It was so normal!
Great story, man.
Okay okay, I got it. One time, I sat on the toilet. I was completely by myself in the bathroom.
Me too. Multiple times.
Well what about the time I was happy and looked incredibly attractive?
What about it?
See? That's not fun. It's more amusing when you feel completely uncomfortable with yourself. If I was reading a book in my room, and then shit my pants, and then had to run in the bathroom to clean it up, but there were four dudes in there sucking each other, and so then I felt shocked and I ran away but then I tripped and fell and busted my head open on the wooden floor and the blood poured into my eyeballs and I was temporarily blinded and a baby bit my big toe...now I have a story. One awkward, incredible story.
I walked to speed dating with the only friend who had agreed to come with me.
"Aren't you excited?!" I exclaimed.
"I have nothing better to do. I can't believe none of your other friends agreed to do this!" he said.
"Yeah, we have to make this entertaining so we can tell them how much they missed out."
"I'm gonna yell at everyone."
"I'm gonna say my parents named me after a James Bond character."
"Which one?"
"Pussy Galore."
"I'm gonna ask if I can only talk to men."
"I'm gonna walk in and say, 'Is this not The Swingers Meeting? I'm sorry, I must have the wrong place!' "
Needless to say, we were ready. We were so ready, in fact, that we were the first ones there.
"Uh, Natasha, there's no one in there. Are you sure this is tonight?"
We peered through the windows of the GIANT meeting room that had about fifteen tables set up encircling the perimeter.
"Yes, yes, it's tonight. Look, there's the flier. I'll prove it to you. See? Speed dating at seven...thirty. Oops."
"Let's go outside and come back in half an hour."
Half and hour soon passed, and it was time to date rapidly. I was ready to break my personal record of the maximum amount of dates I could go on in one night. And in one place, for that matter.
We walked back to the room, peering in the windows.
"Uh, Natasha, there's still no one in there."
"Yeah but look! Look over there! NOW!"
I turned my friend around because he refused to look where I was pointing because he was being an ASSHOLE and I showed him the target of my attention. It was a boy.
"That guy - is definitely going to speed dating," I whispered.
I won't physically describe him because I, too, was being an asshole. A sincere asshole, but an asshole nonetheless.
And an accurate asshole, because then he walked into the speed dating room.
Does being right cancel out being judgmental?
"My throat hurts," my friend randomly said.
"Oh...I'm sorry."
"I mean, it really hurts, Natasha."
"I believe you. Didn't doubt it for a second."
"It hurts so much I don't even want to speak."
"DON'T YOU DARE."
"Seriously, Natasha. My throat is killing me and ---"
"NO. NO. NO."
"I'm not going to be able to talk ---"
"I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU ARE DOING THIS TO ME."
"If I could just find a cough drop..."
Then a mutual acquaintance of ours approached.
"Hey guys, what're you doing?"
"YOU. COME TO SPEED DATING WITH ME."
"Speed what?"
"SPEED DATING. NOW. LIKE RIGHT NOW. LET'S GO."
"Um...okay...let me grab my jacket..."
And by "jacket," he meant three other people.
"YES!"
It was now two girls, three boys, and a successful disappearing act from the friend I had initially came with. We signed in, the other girl under the pseudonym of 'Jennifer Aniston,' and we walked in. That's when we heard the music.
What's it called? Slow jamz? Baby-makin' music? Whatever. The kind of music R. Kelly would put on to get a girl in the sack.
Then we saw the tables. They were covered in rose petals.
What kind of organized orgy is this?
"I can't do this," one of the guys said.
We tried to leave, but one of the monitors stopped us.
"Please stay. Y'all just stay. Please? Stay. This is more of just a meeting group now."
And so we stayed. Which I wanted to do in the first place.
The six of us sat at one table, while one girl and one boy (the one I had predicted to be there) sat at a table on the opposite end of the enormous room. A monitor walked up to them and asked if they were having a good time, and the girl replied,
"Oh, have we started? This is my brother."
The six of us sat at one table, while a pair of siblings sat at another.
US AND BRO AND SIS. WHAT KIND OF INCESTUOUS ORGANIZED ORGY IS THIS.
"I have a girlfriend," one guy at my table said.
"Yeah, I have a boyfriend," I replied.
Two people in a relationship, three singles, one fake Jennifer Aniston, and two family members - all at Speed Dating.
"Alright, let's begin!" a woman said, speaking into a microphone.
Begin? There were thirteen tables empty. Were we going to go back and forth between two tables?
"I'm going to separate you six ---"
That's when everyone stood up.
"I actually have to go..." one guy said.
"Yeah, what time is it now?" the other guy asked. "Isn't it time for that...church...thing?"
"I'm really sorry," Jennifer Aniston said to the woman. "But we all have to go now."
"It's fine," the woman smiled, obviously pissed. Then she looked at me.
And I looked at her.
And she looked at me.
And the brother and sister walked over.
And I looked at them.
And they smiled at me.
And I looked back at the woman.
And she looked at me.
And this is when I made the biggest mistake of the year.
"I have to go."
I walked out, leaving the brother and sister as the only two people at speed dating.
Then I called my friend.
"Where are you? Please come in there with me. There's only a brother and sister and they look like they have no friends and I feel really bad for them and all you have to do is just sit and talk with them with me and ---"
"Dude. I'm at my house."
"YOU WALKED BACK TO YOUR HOUSE?"
"Dude! I told you - I needed a cough drop."
"You've got to be kidding me."
"You have no reason to be mad at me, Natasha. My throat hurts really ---"
"I have to go."
I hung up and looked back at the room. I wanted to go back. All I had to do was talk to those kids. That's it. That's all. I wouldn't have made their day or anything, but I think it would have made them feel better if they weren't the only ones who showed up to speed dating --- especially since they were brother and sister, and especially since everyone fucking left when they walked over. I would feel like SHIT if someone did that to me.
But I kept on walking. And I went home.
And I feel like an asshole. And I still regret it.
I wish I could go back in time and not conform to everyone else's decision and had just did it myself, on my own, independently.
I think I'll organize my own night of speed dating.
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