Speed Hating

A good friend of mine needed help getting back in the saddle. I offered to be her moral support and go speed dating with her. After signing up for an event in January that was cancelled, we finally got around to the make up session, but now I think I'm actually the one that needs help.

It wasn't the best week for me, but I committed to doing this and didn't want to back out. I wasn't in my best form to start with, then things got progressively worse.

You know you've been dating too much when you go out to try to widen your circle a bit and run into more people you already know. The panic hit me the moment we walked in -- I knew the host.... but how? Oh sweet Jesus, how do I know this guy? Have I dated him? Or worse? My stomach was in knots. My dear friend put a deathgrip on my arm to prevent the fight or flight response and dragged me over to the bar.

One and a half vodka and crans later, I remembered where I knew him from. Yes, there was an interest... but nothing ever happened. There was a stretch of time where I kept bumping into him and of course there was plenty of flirting and even a phone call or two, but I don't recall an actual date. *Whew!*

We finally get things started and I begin to feel boring talking to these guys who want to know what I like to do for fun. My interests are so broad, this is always tough for me to pick just one or two things... but lately, there's not much time for fun for me so I just talk about generic fun: hanging out at the lake, live music, blah, blah... The more of these guys I talk to, the more generic I feel.

It's not a bad turn out. The guys seem OK. There are no prison guards, and just one borderline creepy guy. Two if you count the one ogling me before the event. Plenty of average attractive guys though. One really cute short guy and an intriguing aloof guy. At least 2 of them are suitably lubricated from their frosty adult beverages to be full on flirtacious. I'm thankful for that. I'll take it.

I'm finally starting to relax, it's one of the final rounds and here comes a nice tall attractive guy that I didn't notice earlier. How did I miss him? I'm starting to feel glad I came... and then as he nears my table, I see it's yet ANOTHER guy I already know.

This one doesn't trouble me though; I immediately place him. He's a nice attractive guy I've met through a mutual friend and I would have loved to date him.

Notice the past tense there. "I would have loved to date him."

As he sits down, I greet him warmly and refresh his memory, reminding him that we've met before at our friend's house. I tell him it's nice to see him again. He seems ok, but a few seconds later he jumps back spastically as if Cosmo Kramer has taken posession of his body and points at me as he exclaims, "Oh my god! You're that crazy girl that's writing about all her dates! You're a freak!"

Um.... wow. Well... how do you respond to that? I was shocked. Hurt.
Here I thought he was this nice guy that I might actually like to date, and he's calling me names. Nice.

I tell him he can be excused from the remaining 3 and a half minutes if he'd like.
...and now I'm wishing I didn't come at all.

But it gets me thinking about all this...
I am NOT a freak.

The reason I'm doing this is motivation. I know I'm going to have to go on alot of dates before I find a good match for me. I've already had more than my fair share of guys with issues and "fixer-uppers"... and it's tough out there. It's tough to keep going in the face of adversity... when no one seems right... and when men behave badly.

I don't have steely resolve. It's hard enough to be putting yourself out there, and I sure as hell don't need to be called names.

I guess he wasn't nearly as nice a guy as I thought he was.