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8 minutes and Counting Down to
True Love
The road less traveled
I
need a drink...fast.
That was my first thought as I barged apprehensively into Ybor's
Martini Bar last Tuesday evening for "8-Minute Dating," a
speed-dating event where young, single hopefuls congregate to
pair up with eight eligible "dates" for eight minutes each.
"Are you here for the event?" a muscular hottie asked, smiling
disarmingly. "I'm Ezra Simmons, the event organizer."
Hey, baby. Unfortunately, Simmons then introduced me to the
other event organizer - his girlfriend.
Oh, well. I just hoped my "dates" of the evening would be that
hot.
I glanced quickly into the crowded bar area, where a crowd of
co-ed, nametag-toting twentysomethings sipped Martinis,
struggling to appear sophisticated as they sized up their
prospects.
Well, the guys sized up their prospects. The cleavage-baring
women, on the other hand, sized up their competition - as
females usually do.
I suddenly felt like I was at a middle-school dance...or a
mid-twenties cattle call.
"I can't believe I'm doing this," I confessed to Simmons,
laughing, as he handed me a nametag and a dating card with my
3-digit code name: "Linnea 313."
"Now, no one is allowed to ask for your phone number, last name
or for a second date," Simmons explained. "If you want to see
the person again, you mark them down on your scorecard as either
'dating,' 'friendship' or 'business,' and then enter your
choices on the Web site afterwards. You only receive each
other's information if they also pick you for the same
category."
I thanked Simmons and made a beeline for the bar, joining the
expectant crowd of 39 soon-to-be serial daters.
I ordered the strongest-looking $8 citrus martini on the menu,
hoping its alcohol content would ease my pre-date jitters. A few
sips later, I was bonding with two girls standing next to me.
"Looks like there's a dress code for the guys tonight," one of
them muttered, giggling, as we noted that most of the men had
donned exactly the same classic 'guy' outfit - a blue
long-sleeved, button-down shirt, tucked into khakis with a brown
belt and brown shoes.
A bell sounded, signaling the start of the event. Fired up with
the liquid encouragement of the martini, I confidently bopped
over to table eight (labeled with a place card) to meet my first
date, "Sean 914."
Sean was cool. A 25-year-old lawyer, he was tall and cute, in an
intellectual, basketball player sort of way. He talked fast,
smiled a lot and had great teeth. Definitely a good catch. But
... no sparks. When the bell chimed at the end of eight minutes,
we smiled, shook hands and walked off to meet our next matches.
I headed over to table 12, where 24-year-old "Luis 606" was
waiting on a couch seat. Dark-haired, laid-back and Colombian, I
immediately liked the relaxed style, untucked shirt and goatee.
However, his interests were another story.
"I'm into guns," Luis declared airily. "I've been taking a few
semesters off from Valencia."
Whoa. Next.
"Brian 506" and "Chad 813" were both wearing the typical 'guy'
uniform, had typical jobs, were typically sweet - and
completely, typically unmemorable.
I was starting to realize just how long eight minutes could be.
When we had finished the first four dates, Simmons announced a
20-minute break. I grabbed my drink and retreated to the ladies'
room, where girls were already comparing stories about their
retrospective dates.
Gratefully, I heard one girl saying that she had hit it off with
both Brian and Chad, which made me feel a little better about
not liking either of them.
After the break, I met with "Geno 258," a 29-year-old
pharmaceutical sales representative from Deland.
Geno was a big flirt who liked to ask questions.
"So, what do you like to do when you come home from a long day
at work to relax?" he asked, looking deeply into my eyes. "What
was your first impression of me?"
I immediately understood why he was a salesman. For some reason,
I also couldn't seem to stop yawning.
"Sorry," I apologized, as my jaws opened, lion-style, for the
fourth time in eight minutes.
My next date, with "Mark 719," was probably the weirdest eight
minutes of my life. Soft-spoken and shy, Mark had glasses and
suspiciously thick hair. He was the only person I met all night
who admitted to previously participating in speed dating.
However, Mark seemed a little older than the pre-set event age
range of 22 to 28.
"Um, how old are you?" I asked.
"Late thirties," he replied sheepishly, offering no explanation.
Right ... perhaps he didn't get the memo about the age
specifics.
My seventh and eighth dates were actually both really fun,
interesting guys; people that I'd love to hang out with sometime
as friends, although I still didn't really feel any fireworks.
I talked about traveling with Chris, a 28-year-old archeologist
who told me all about contracting typhoid fever in Peru ... and
I talked about music with Dave, a 25-year-old who shared my
passion for the man himself, Prince.
It's amazing how much you can talk about in eight minutes.
As a grand finale, Simmons also announced a surprise 'bonus
date,' which I shared with Kevin, a young, hot Winter Springs
high school teacher.
Much like Chris and Dave, Kevin was great - warm, funny,
good-looking and easy to talk to. But as far as touching my
animalistic, "date me, date me," side...none of the '8-Minute
Dating' guys had really done it.
Or so I thought. As I stood around afterward chatting with
Simmons, a gorgeous guy approached us, wearing an event nametag.
I suddenly envied the nine girls who'd gotten eight minutes with
this guy.
He introduced himself as Ryan, a web designer and UCF graduate.
We talked easily for a few minutes and he gave me his card. I
haven't contacted him yet, but who knows - maybe I'll have a
'8-Minute Dating' success story after all. Sort of.
Regardless of the results, however, '8-Minute Dating' truly was
an enjoyable event. It was well organized and creative, and most
of the participants seemed like fun-loving, decent, successful
people.
In fact, I would highly recommend it to anyone single and
adventurous enough to try it.
As for me, I think maybe I'll try the '3-Minute dating' scene
sometime. Or maybe '6-Minute dating' or '7-Minute dating'
(actual local speed-dating events) ... or maybe just the good ol'
Orlando bar scene.
In the meantime ... I'm calling Ryan.
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