A couple of the clubs on my campus were hosting a speed dating night for people who would be single and unhappy about it on Valentine's Day. I've never been to speed dating before and I thought it could really be fun. I paid no nevermind to the fact that people went there actually trying to find dates. I just went there to make friends, a detail I never actually revealed to any of my three-minute dates.
The event was held on the third floor of the Union, which was purposely unlit to "set the mood." I was the first one to arrive, so after pinning a #1 on my shirt I entered the dark, loud room where I could barely see the chair I was supposed to sit in. I could barely see the faces of any of my dates and had to strain to hear some of them. To break the ice we were given a somewhat unimaginative list of questions to ask our dates. What's your favorite book? Movie? TV show? Album? What's the best weekend you've had this semester?
Some guys were really cool about the experience, while others delved into awkward or obnoxious territory. One date that I had started off by advertising his club and how great it is to be involved in it. He was one of the club members hosting the event, acting as a fill-in date given the uneven number of guys and chicks there were. I was kind of upset that half of my dates were fill-ins. In consequence, I never got a chance to have a date with half of the guys who showed up because they actually wanted to. I could tell that one of my fill-ins batted for the other team. Another fill-in clearly wasn't interested in the event, and another told me at the end of our date that he'd have sex with me. And he started off being so friendly too.
Although I did have dates with mostly club members, I found that they were the best to talk to. One of my other dates was a real jerk, and I mean he was worse than the guy who told me he'd have sex with me. He took a seat in the chair across from me, laid back and said, "You're my last date for the night, so you should feel honored that I chose you." Cue polite laughter. "I've already answered all of the questions on that list a hundred times, so fire away or come up with your own." This guy smelled of douchebaggery. He was high on himself and acted like he had been forced into this situation. He embodied everything I hated about the guys at my old school. Realizing this, I tried everything I could to make him feel uncomfortable. Sheepishly I asked, "What underwear have you got on?" Oh how innocent I looked with my rosy cheeks and blonde hair. I bet he never expected that one to come out of my mouth. But just when I thought I'd had him he answered without hesitation. "Fruit of the loom. No one, not my roommate, not people at the gym, not myself, no one will catch me in a pair of tidey whities." Imagine that. He gloated about his underwear. How proud could this asshole be about that?
"What's the craziest thing you've ever done?" I asked.
"I did Edward 40-hands." Oh yes, so crazy. Because no one, I mean NO ONE drinks. Like, ever. Because that's just wrong. Just to show him up I told him about the mock porno I was in. And this loser thought HE was crazy. Ha! Not a chance in hell he was crazy, not compared to me. I've done things. I've seen things... And yes, that I just wrote that jokingly, but there is also a lot of truth in it. But the thing I've learned over the years is that those who brag about how wild they are, actually aren't. It's like when people tell you how much sex they have, just to cover up the fact that they're not actually getting any.
Perhaps I was going in the wrong direction with my line of questioning. This was a guy who would answer even the most embarrassing question with absolutely no shame at all. I needed to ask questions about his personal life. That was sure to make him want to get up and leave. I scanned the list I was given to pick out the right question. "What are you looking for in a girlfriend?" Judging by the squished up face he made I had succeeded in my mission. "Alright, that's way too personal. But I guess I'd have to say I don't want someone whose a shut-in. I don't want some girl who sits home at night. I need someone who goes out and experiences things, and exposes themselves to things." Because nothing says love like doing a couple of lines of cocaine, right? I'm pretty sure that's what he meant. Or doing anal. Either way, I'm not interested. I was all too happy when our date was over, because I was seriously about to kick him out of his chair.
All in all, I had a rocking time speed dating. I got to experience something new, met a prospective friend, and got to talk about Mr. Douchebag with my roommates after it was all over. Was it worth three bucks? Probably not. But it made me remember why I like being by myself.
Forever the honest,
Stephanie Lato
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