John from ‘Original Dating’ invited myself, Dangerous Debbie (the most embarrassing name for telephone introductions), to come along to one of their events (the complimentary gesture was somewhat tainted when I discovered an article he’d written for the Metro: “Weirdest speed daters ever”).
At first I was hesitant about speed dating (one date a month is soul destroying enough) but figured it could be fun to meet new people in a new environment (which I later found out is an environment I don’t thrive in and that I have the conversational skills of a screaming goat).
A few days before the event I invited one of my friends to come along (I didn’t ask – just sent across her name and email details to John) she was excited to take part (absolutely fuming – I received a message with an image of the confirmation email, “WTF – guessing this has everything to do with you”).
On the day of the event, I met my friend at the station (downed a large glass of wine) and we made our way to the venue where we mingled with the other speed daters (I had a massive tantrum over our failed ‘speed dating’ selfie). We were then called to take our seats (after blaming my friend for ruining my life she loudly whispered “don’t you ever speak to me like that again – I know that’s how you speak to your mother”) and we took our places.
I was greeted with my first male of the evening. He was an engineer, my knowledge on this topic is sparse – so we skipped over the details (after I made a comment regarding car manufacturing; that’s a mechanic – not an engineer). We tried to find more common ground so told each other our best jokes. He told his (and I laughed – before the punch line) then I told mine ‘what do you call a dog with no legs…nothing it won’t come anyway’. (I apologised.)
Next male – a finance director for the largest channel on TV, lives in Chelsea – travels extensively for work – late 30’s looking for someone likeminded and wants a serious relationship (we had absolutely nothing in common).
Third male, housemate to the first male. His opening line; ‘not as good as Prince Harry, but better than Ed Sheeran’ (he was ginger) and that was as far as our conversation went (he started shouting abuse at his housemate for stealing his ‘best’ joke – which I still didn’t understand).
The fourth, fifth and sixth males were unfortunately nothing noteworthy (my nipples and I were too busy eyeing up the barman) but were all perfectly polite (excluding the one who told me “not to be discouraged – there’s usually a lot more people here”).
And so I entered my final date of the evening, he was called “Olof”. I became excited (loud and more awkward) “like the snowman?!” – “No. Its spelt with an ‘o”. He then attempted to change the subject (I refused) and I continued to pry (“you must be so happy at the moment, with it being summer!”). “I am from Sweden, I am a banker – I am not a fictional cartoon snowman” (such an angry snowman). The host called time on the evening and we finished up with our final dates (I offered mine a ‘warm hug’) and re-joined my friend.
After the event we continued to mingle with the other speed daters (mainly the middle-ground ginger and ‘mechanic’) and exchanged notes to see what sort of first impressions we’d made (interesting, funny..)
The night came to an end (blind drunk, yelling ‘LET IT GO..LET IT GO’), and we were told to keep an eye on the Mixeo app. which allows you to match with any possible suitors from the evening. (Or brings attention to the fact that you should join the cast of the ‘The Undatables’).
It was updated the following day (my friend received a number of messages) and we exchanged thoughts on the boys who had messaged (the conversation was very one-sided).
All in all a fantastic night (I woke at 3am – vommiting up my dignity) and would highly recommend an evening with ‘Original dating’.
(Olof is yet to message – although it must be tricky to type with no bones).