We signed up in November, but the event was full. And the next month, we were busy. And then we went on vacation. So, there went the first half of the year.
Fast forward to when I got back to Beijing after Spring Festival. I saw that there was not one, but two (TWO!) opportunities to go speed-dating. Fairly confident that they would both be filled at such a late date, I signed up. E was still traveling, so I'd be flying solo, and solo speed-dating seemed... Daunting. Luckily for me, both events were indeed fully booked.
Friday rolled around, and I asked if the Boys were up for a pint after work. And then I got an email. There had been last minute cancellations, and suddenly there were open spots at speed-dating that evening. It was the moment of truth. Was I willing to reveal myself as the sad-sack, boyfriendless loser that I am and go?
Now, you all stepped into the breach and informed me I am not a loser, but maybe you can see my side for a moment. I hang out with a gang (past, present, likely future) that loves to take the piss. They are almost as good as piss artists as they are as, well, piss artists (aka drinkers). And being so blatant about looking for a date just screams desperation.
But, with some email support from my ladies, I signed up. As I was walking down the hall, one of the Boys asked if I was going out for beer that night because it was Paddy's birthday. "Oh," I said. "I just signed up for..." and I whispered, "speed dating."
He was walking into class to teach. Pause. As the bell rang, I heard, "Wait. What?"
Well, I got the official invite to speed-dating, so there was that. A frantic gchat with E later, and I had worked out an outfit for the evening. But, to be social, I stopped by the Local first to have a pint with the Boys. And it came out: I was going speed-dating. And I've got to give credit where credit is due: none of them gave me shit. In fact, they all wanted to know what it was like.
In an unprecedented move, I finally managed to pay for a substantial bar tab. (And by "substantial", I mean a whopping $15 for 9 people for a few hours.) Of course, I tried to give her 110 kuai for a 108 kuai bill. To show her gratitude, she brought me another pint! (They are proper 20 oz. pints, but only about 3.2% alcohol.) I was trying to leave before I'd had too much liquid courage.
I drank about half the pint before I jettisoned the bottle (by the side of the pavement on the way to the subway).
I showed up with about 20 minutes left in drinks hour, which let me chat with the two women who showed up ahead of me, go to the bathroom, and pick up my free beer (like I needed another, but it would give me something to do). And then we were directed to the seats: women to the outside seats and men to the inside.
There were 20 "couples", each with a number. We each took a seat (I sat near the two women I had met on the way in), and we started talking.
After about five minutes, the MC explained the rules: After four minutes of conversation, the MC will make a sound with the bullhorn, and the men will all move one seat to their right. We each have a score card. If two people both tick "yes", then you will receive the other person's email address. She then explained that we would begin in five minutes, so we all kept talking to the same person. Five minutes after that, she started the clock, and we officially began talking to the same person.
That first conversation was one of the most interesting, although it did center around things that annoyed us about China. Of course, the subway ranks high in the list, as does its ability to turn us into angry, rude assholes. (I'm paraphrasing here.) My "date" once hit a man in the face. What does it say about me that I found that a perfectly reasonable response?
Then the horn blew, and away he went.
I can talk to anyone for four minutes; that is not a problem. So while I'm having practically the same conversation with each man who's sitting in front of me, let me describe the scene.
This event was hosted by a group called Rotoract. I didn't think much about the name beforehand (I was focused in the speed-dating part). When I got there, I noticed the crowd was decidedly professional and Western. (There was only one Chinese man in the mix, and I think only a couple of women.) They were largely established, but which I mean somewhere mid-career, upper 20s to mid-40s, although there were a coupe of notable exceptions. Mostly, it felt like a Rotary Club turned JC. Later on I surmised that it is indeed an arm of Rotary International, but with a huge service bent (so exactly Rotary with a Junior Chamber of Commerce bent). They seem to arrange volunteer activities among the service-oriented professional crowd. If some business networking goes on as well, well hurrah.
There were also a lot of Americans in the group. Maybe it's all the Brits I hang with or maybe I live and play in the wrong neighborhoods, but I don't think I've been in a room with that many Americans since, well, America. Or maybe it's just that anything more than two Americans feels like a roomful (take whatever lesson you want from that statement).
There was only one man who was a complete dud, and man, was he a dud. He was dressed in baggy trousers and was wearing run-down trainers. His tone of voice was reminiscent of Marvin the Paranoid Android. The girl sitting next to me was genuinely torn about checking "Yes" on her score card, just because she knew no one else would.
When the event was over, I went home and waited by my email with baited breath. This was a few days before Valentine's Day, and it was my last chance for a date. When I received the email with my matches a day later, I had two matches, and one was with a man who said that he wasn't really there to date but to find cool people to hang out with. The other guy said nothing about dating. A third one emailed me directly because he wanted to build up stock footage of students from my school.
I went bowling with them a week later, and it was fun, but that was all it was. I met one guy who was in town on business for s few more days and took my email (he even stopped me from leaving before he got my deets), but he never emailed. One of my other "matches" was a closet weirdo with some pretty lame political ideas. He was far too intolerant even for my "I've been in this country too long and am getting a little frustrated" frame of mind.
Long story short: I went speed-dating, and I wasn't asked out on any second dates. I have been proven the loser I was afraid of being revealed as.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:Beijing, China
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