Speed-dating part deux

Like the Naked Gun Part Deux, but not.

Sunday night K. and I headed to speed-dating, which costs $30 per person. Um or not, as one guy told me "They're always trying to get guys to sign up, so I go for free a lot." So, basically if I went enough I'd probably see the same 40 guys over and over. Fantastic. I even got assigned to sit in the same exact seat I'd sat in last time, totally by accident. All was going along like a carrousel, guys getting up and moving from woman to woman.

For those who haven't speed-dated, it is a less than horrible, but also less than enjoyable way to spend one's evening. If you want to find someone to go out with in New York, these are the kinds of activities that you have to resign yourself to. That and house parties of people you don't know. House party with people you don't know when you're 20? Awesome!! Well, if you were me and 20 the answer would be "um, okay. Sounds okay." and it would be okay. House party'o'strangers when you're in your 30s? Exhausting. It's like Liz Lemon says (paraphrased): "all the nodding, and talking, and naming of siblings, and for what? you have to have sex. I just want to skip ahead to when we've been dating ten years." I don't know about most women, but this comment struck me as genius.

~~~~waving lines, time warping us back to this past friday~~~~

when K. and I attended just such a house party in Carroll Gardens, a mere hour an a half from when I live WHEN THE TRAINS ARE WORKING, and they weren't. House party was not half bad: people were friendly, there were delicious chocolate chip cookies, there were strange vegetable kabobs with four different types of vegetables on each one, the second veggie of which was disgusting and totally unidentifiable by everyone there (except of course for the bringer of said nasty veggie kabobs, who dared not reveal him or herself). The host was cheerful and having moved from cali a mere week beforehand managed to get about 50 people to show up at his housewarming. Clearly, the man is connected, as I have lived in the big apple for 10 years and am concerned about whether 10 people will show up to my upcoming bday party. Anyhow, K. was wonderful for inviting me, and we mutually agreed that if you want to meet someone you're going to have to endure such parties and learn to navigate their very testy waters.

Host was cute, but was wearing TERRIBLE white button-down shirt with strange pattern. These things must be de rigeur on the west coast, but bespeak newcomerness. But sartorial judgments should not be passed: Wear what ye will. Hoping he might like K. as they would be a cute couple.

We got introduced to a couple of people. A girl asked if we were fellow singletons, and we nodded. She said there were a lot of single guys there (really?) including the guy that K. found attractive to her right (let's call him Dabbler). She then raised her large plastic drink cup and mouthed "he's a player". Thank you for the warning, good Miss. I wish more people would tell me these things. Although...back in 2000 I was warned by Midtown Girl that a guy was a player, but NO, I went right out with him. Bad move. This time, I'm listening.

Dabbler, who mentioned that he is interested in getting a phd "or something" asked if he could guess our professions. For me, true story, he says: "You're not an actress, I can tell that. Hmm, you turn the letters for a game show." Great, I'm vanna white (who, as an aside, has not aged in 20 years, it's freaky). As for K? "Congressional aide." What's this man going off of? hair color.

He walks away.

Cut to: K and I standing in the doorway. I want to be a wing-girl for her, but I can stand it no longer and confess "I'm exhausted." "Thank goodness!" she says, let's get out of here. We cab it back to our boroughs.

~~~~~~~wavy lines, back to the near past and original story....speed-dating~~~~~

In speed-dating, for those who don't know, you get a name tag and you have to write down each person's name in a booklet so you can remember them. I dutifully write down each person's name as he comes by, looking at and pronouncing his name. Then comes "Will" only I see the name tag and the "l"s are curled under, so it looks like someone wrote a hasty "u" not connecting the bottom of the letter. "Wiu?" I say. He looks at me like I'm nuts. I look at his nametag again, "Wu?"

"This is not happening," he says.

"Oh my god! You're name's Will! So sorry," (I wear contacts, but they are the wrong prescription, so it makes it hard to read things anyway).

I must add that the man is asian.

"Wow," he says, "this is totally not going to work out."

I turned bright red, it was a totally honest mistake, I SWEAR I thought it said Wiu even before I looked at him, you only have two minutes so you have to write down the name fast and then shake hands and talk.

I felt so embarrassed.

Fortunately, he came over during the break to say hi and have a further conversation, but I was so mortified I didn't "pick" him when it came time to enter our choices.

Then, I see K. talking to MD (a doctor). My god! That guy was at the last one and I could tell he really liked me and now I'm going to have to see him and he obviously knows I didn't pick him. I wave K. frantically over. She hasn't met anyone she likes so far either.

Bell rings and we're back in class, session 2. MD comes over, "you know, I thought about you after the last speed dating." oh no!

Anyhow, MD is a super smart Indian doctor who went to harvard and seems very nice (the opposite of who I go out with generally: usually I prefer alcoholics who treat me like crap). Um, so I picked him when the choice time came, why not? He's not bad looking and maybe he'll be more interesting than I thought. So, I'll keep everyone posted on that...