When I was at Club Getaway, I went to an activity hosted by HurryDate. HurryDate is much the same thing as Speed Dating, but different people get paid. (That is, the HurryDate people, not the Speed Dating people.) All in all, it wasn't too successful. They had way too many people there in relation to how much time they had, so instead of getting three minutes or seven minutes per person, you got one or two. Not enough time to make a decision, even if the decision is only the answer "Do I want to talk some more to this person?" I answered yes to that question for seven of the 25 guys there and four of those people claimed they wanted to talk to me as well, but no one made it past the first email exchange (and by no one, I'm including myself - two of the guys just never followed up).
What the experience did prompt me to do, though, was sign up for their dating website. Funny how dating websites used to be the last refuge of the hopeless and now I think they're considered one of the primary ways to meet people. So now I'm on HurryDate.com. So far, I've connected with two people. The first one, we emailed twice each, then had a good conversation on the phone. We decided to meet for a drinks date. A lot of women are a fan of the drinks date; I'm not convinced. It's very noncommittal, which makes sense, I know, when you are talking about internet dating, but I still don't really like it. However, this is because I haven't had a lot of truly awful first dates where I've had to sit through a dinner when all I really wanted to do is run like the wind. So I'm told. Anyway, this drinks date, which took place at P.S. 450 (not actually a public school), lasted about two hours. I thought it went fine. Not great, but it rated a second date. That turned out to be an opinion of one, though, because although I emailed him to thank him for the date, I never heard from him again. Hit by the bus, apparently.
In retrospect, the thing I found most interesting about the entire affair has nothing to do with the guy; it had to do with me. On my way to work that morning, I noticed that some nail polish had chipped off of one nail and I spent the entire day obsessing about it. The main question: Is this something he would notice? If so, what would be think about it? A woman would notice, what about a man? It was a light shade, that should count for something. Should I go home and repaint it? (45 minute trip each way). After all, it's just one nail and in all likelihood, we weren't going to be spending a lot of time discussing/looking at my hands. Hm. In the end, I went home, repainted the nail and, since I was there, changed into a different outfit. I realize that this is not interesting so far. The interesting part is that I got to this place, and it was so dark, you definitely wouldn't have noticed my fingernails unless you were looking for it. (This ended up being a good thing, though, because on my way back into the city, I realized that my toe nails could have used a polish as well.) And the idea that a place to meet, a bar, would be that dark didn't even cross my mind. Okay, well not interesting, per se, but notable to me. I won't go so far as to say that I had a moment of clarity, but it was a nice reminder that I worry too much and I worry about the wrong things. Yes, you want to put your best foot forward and present yourself nicely. But it's really personality that does the trick, I think. Once you get to that first date. Of course, in this case, there was no magic, so I can't speak to my personality. But then, I can't say much for his, so maybe it just wasn't a good mesh.
I'm more intrigued by this second guy. We've exchanged several emails by now and some have been quite chatty. He is a writer, which I find somewhat exciting. He seems nice. It's hard to tell over email if we would hit it off, but I have a good feeling that we might. That's based on nothing, of course. There isn't a whole lot of information on this email. He's been working on the galley proofs for his book or something this week, so he's been too busy to call and have a real chat. Maybe this weekend.