Jesus Christ eating a donut, where the fuck do I start with this one? Firstly, it’s going to be a two parter. There were 17 men to get through, each of them deserve their spot in the sun. Prepare yourself for this. Ok… the back story. After a conversation about our respective singleness and making a conscience effort to put ourselves out there my good friend from Toowoomba suggested speed dating. Being a little bit older than me, we picked an age bracket that meant we could both go. 32 – 48 (more like 32 – 80). It’ll be fun, she quipped. More efficient than one date at a time. This was further confirmed by my mate Tim at work, who’d been before. “You’ll never go back to Tinder after this… it’s the most fun you’re ever going to have.” Sold. I paid the $50 and so did she and so we waited three weeks for the day to roll around. Day of, T’ba friend texts: Can’t make it. Fuck it. I aint going. We all know how much I hate going out on a school night, how much I stress about the miss and how much I just hate people in general. But I had Lisa, Kels AND Tim on my case about how fun it is and that I should go. After I dug my heels in Lisa told me to stop being a cunt and she was already on her way over so I begrudgingly went by myself. The pep talk in the car from Kels and Lisa went something like, “Try not to be overly hostile. Just give people a chance. Just be yourself… on second thoughts, don’t be yourself. Just try not to be a bitch to everyone.” I can keep my bitch in check. I got this.
Let’s set the scene. Anyone been to Hotel LA on Caxton? Typical sort of Queensland pub/venue. Smelt of stale beer, puke and desperation. And oh my, did all three smells mesh together and linger in the air ALL fucking night. I went in to the bar and grabbed an Asahi and sat down facing the door. Immediately, this nice lady came and sat with me. “Hey, I’m Sal.” Sal was a single mum with a three year old too. We bonded quickly over how much children age you and how mental they are and how “women of our age were looking to settle down”. I didn’t want to be crass by telling her I’m all about the D… You never know how those jokes are gonna go down with strangers so I just politely agreed to everything in the conversation. Anyway, because of this, I pretty much missed everyone walking in. Not to worry, this is going to be great. Sal is really nice so I guess it’s a taste of the types of people who come here. Oh boy, was I wrong.
For those of you who’ve never been, the women are given a number, it correlates to a table. You go and sit there and then the men come to you. For four minutes and twenty seconds (of sheer hell) you discuss whatever in the hopes of finding a connection. You then fill in a little pink card that has space for their name, notes and a tick box for “friend, “date” or “no. ” Honestly, I’ve had more pleasurable pap smears. Let’s meet them all one at a time shall we? Lucky for you, dear reader, I took notes. Names withheld, y’know. Just in case it accidentally turned out to be your brother/cousin. Probably more likely would have turned out to be your dad. Anyway…
Contestant # 1. Alternative looking fellow. Asked him about his background and he turned out to be from Mexico. Well, so far so good. I fucking love tacos. While he talked about his siblings, I couldn’t but immediately notice a curious hair styling choice. He had a mop of thick black hair, Justin Bieber circa 2012. Weird kind bowl cut action, kinda like Donald Trump. But on top of that, he’d had bleached blonde foils through the front part only. He looked like what the Mexicans would DO to Donald Trump if given the chance. Not to be dismayed by the interesting skunk/Trump hair, it was the conversation that has me at nup. He spoke at least half of his time about an amazing woman he’d met the last time he went speed dating. She was so hot she was intimidating. SO imagine his luck when she ticked “Date.” They’d arranged to meet at this restaurant and he arrived 5 minutes early. During his 5 minutes he psyched himself out and literally got up and walked out. Apparently she was very angry. Who’d of thought. His justification was “I really just saved her some time though, she was way out of my league” to which I responded “perhaps you would have actually saved her time, had you notified her prior to her spending an hour to get ready then commuting in to the venue.”
“Oh…” he said like it was some kind of revelation. “Oh yeah.. no wonder she was so pissed.” DING – The warning bell goes. This is the 30 seconds you get before the people walk around and usher the men to their next booth. I can’t remember what else he said, I just remember him extending his hand and me shaking what felt like a luke warm limp cock of hand. *sigh* Ok not to worry that’s only one douche bag. Who have we got next?
Contestant #2 – Have you seen X-Men movie with this guy in it??
Yeah that’s who sat down opposite me. Only except, he looked like that guy in this scene where he finds out he’s actually a jelly fish and tries to escape. I wish I was a jelly fish to escape what was going to be 4 minutes 20 seconds of staring at ol’ crazy eyes. I was literally so put off by his wide eyed stare I heard absolutely nothing of what he said.
Contestant #3 – “hello, I’m widowed.” Ah fuck. Ok Suzi, get out the abseiling rig, you’re going to need it to scale down the abyss within your mind to find some empathy here. “I’m so sorry” was what I managed and he spoke briefly of it and about his two children. I nodded politely and genuinely felt bad for the guy. Part of me wanted to put my hand out on his and tell him the pain would pass in time. Not because I know how he felt, but because it seemed like the nice thing to do. I refrained though. Because he was at least a decade older and I didn’t want to give the wrong idea. The warning bell went. “just out of curiosity, how long has it just been the three of you?” I asked as he was getting out of his chair. “seventeen years…” he responded.
Contenstant #4 – This guy was nice. We got up in the middle of our date and went to the bar and he bought me a beer. Typical Queensland man shit… into fishing, camping, 4wd’ing. But I’m into camping in a resort. 4wd’ing if it has a horse float attached to the back. I’m also into Ryan Reynolds in Van Wilder. Not Deadpool. And just because I like a beer after a hard days work, doesn’t mean I don’t have class. Know what I mean…
Contestant #5 – First question out of his mouth was “Do you like NRL?” I shake my head. “Do you like the V8 Super cars?” I shake my head. “Do you like tennis?” This time, I don’t shake my head. This is bloke #5 and I’m beginning to lose control of the phoenix I’ve tried all night to keep buried. “Mate, almost half way through the night, how is this line of questioning going for you?” I slightly raise an eyebrow to infer that I am slightly displeased. He doesn’t pick up on said social cue. “Do you like AFL then?” I give in. “Yes, actually, I do like AFL. I’m a Saints fan.” Well… he sold sports merchandise didn’t he? “I can get you hats, I can get you scarves, I can get you mugs, I can get…” Man that bell, are they increasing the time in between men on purpose or something?
Contestant #6 – D’Artagnan in the white flowered shirt. Previous to starting, Sal has said to me, watch out for the guy in the white floral shirt. He’s in to levitating, and was only interested in dating a woman who was into levitating. It’s his thing and had used it on everyone this evening and also in previous events. You don’t need to google that. Levitating as in floating. So at this point I was like, so I just leave? I do know a little about quantum physics, maybe we can converse. He sat down and gave me the once over. I was wearing a black trench coat with a neckerchief so naturally the first thing out of his mouth was “Do you work for QANTAS?” Instantly disappointed with not being able to talk about quantum physics and slightly irritated at the air hostess comment I replied with “Why yes, I certainly do.” His weirdly waxed D’Artagnan moustache fell two points. “Listen, I take my job as an air stewardess very seriously and pride myself on providing the highest possible customer service to those who choose to commute via the sky.” Dead pan faced. He started to reply and I said nah just kidding but the damage was done. He was the one who held the comedic power with the whole “I’m into levitating” bullshit and now I’d beaten him to the punch. “you’re quite funny,’ he smirked. “I know.” I replied coldly. He didn’t think I was funny for much longer. Turns out he was an artist and a sculptor. “Who’s your favourite artist” he asked. Salvador Dali. “Who’s your favourite Sculptor?” The bloke who creates the Wallace and Gromit figurines. He didn’t think that was funny at all nor did he believe Claymation to be a real art form.
I’m loosing the will to live even reliving this to write it and there’s still 10 men to go… Still next time dear reader.