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Speed-dating – end of a fad?

Speed-dating – end of a fad?

Disclaimer: This post was paid for via fleetingmeeting.com

After my last dribbling dabblings with speed-dating in Cardiff, fleetingmeeting.com offered to give me a free ticket to a future speed-dating event. An offer I finally took up last week with a friend, by way of contrast.

Six months ago, the bar was packed full of women and men, and every second was precious. Last week, there were 7 women and 8 men so the bar did look pathetically empty. This obviously had a major impact on the speed of the speed-dating, and the consequement enjoyment factor.

In between, I was chatting to the amiable and friendly head of it all, who flattered me by terming this humble blog the “Oracle of Cardiff” (presumably by which he means it’s in blocky ASCII text that flashes and tells a punchline when you hit reveal). He also revealed that there was a bit of a shortage of men, and the last session he had to postpone because there were 20 women to 2 men. Which would have been interesting odds.

anyway, I will be very very surprised if anything comes of this particular speed-dating round. One woman was at least twice the age of everyone else around, and kept grouching at how terrible it all was. Then again, I think she did the same job that Pauline does in The League of Gentlemen – and of course, she never got the reference. Strike one.

There were two other amazingly quiet women there, and a gaggle of three teachers. Men being what men do, afterwards there was a horrible display of cockboxing with men trying to out-flirt each other to get their attention. Not something I particularly like being part of.

As the evening got on and we got even more drunk, it became just like High School all over again – with the ladies telling us they were going to pub , the ladies of course not being there, and we catch them at another pub later on where they pretend not to acknowledge our existence. Which they have the perfect right not to do of course, but it’s just a messy reminder of all the horribleness of dating, speedy or slow.

I hope this particular low-show was a bit of a blip, but all fads must end and I imagine Cardiff being the Chardonnay-sophisticated-enclave that it is, people have gone back to getting drunk in bars, and getting into fights on a Saturday night.

Prove me wrong?

1 Comment

  • I'd prove you wrong if somebody bought
    me a ticket to Cardiff.

    Unless that would be the U.K. equivalent
    of a round-trip ticken to Toad Suck, Arkansas.

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