iHateGreenBeans

Okay, it wasn’t so much a “need.”  It felt more like a guilt-induced double dog dare from my friend Catherine of The Catherine Chronicles.  Allow me to share.

So there I was, minding my own business Googling the shirtless scene from Thor when my phone rings.

Catherine:  “Hey Lincee!”
Lincee:  “Hi Catchy!”

Catherine:  “How’s it going?  Is life good?  Doyouwannagospeeddatingwithme?   How’s the blog?”

Lincee:  “Whoa, whoa, whoa, what?”
Catherine:  “Speed dating?  I think it would be so interesting. And fun!  Please come with me.”

I’m going to let you take a moment and think about speed dating.  Do you have the mental picture?  Do you see yourself?

Aaaaannnnnndddd it was as awkward as you are imagining.  Allow me to embellish.

Catherine and I arrive at the “lounge” exactly on time.  We are looking fabulous and feeling good.  Our lips are glossy, our smiles are sparkling and if we’re honest with each other, our butts are clenched in anticipation of what “interesting” things the night will bring.

We make our way cautiously across the scantily crowded bar and see the designated speed dating staging area, complete with little numbered cards on each table.  Our heads turned back to the entrance when we noticed that no one was there yet.  Surely there would be a super-fun official speed date greeter, right?  Perhaps a table with a sign-up sheet and complimentary breath mint?

Confused, Catherine and I awkwardly stand around and wait for someone who looks in charge to introduce us to the process.  No such person arrived.  We opted to buy a drink at the bar and I became somewhat relieved that this modern-day meet-n-greet was more than likely going to be canceled.

Just as my butt was beginning to relax, the bar maid scattered a box of name tags in front of my glistening amaretto sour and instructed us all to find our John Hancock.  Astonished, all of the people I thought were super cool normal Friday night “lounge” attenders shoved Catherine over to grab their tag.

The entire “lounge” was there to speed date.  Butt re-clenched, I said a quick prayer for the Lord to help me get through this.

Our bar maid / speed dating hostess (I shall call her Judy) was dressed in all black.  She carried with her an old fashioned bell that you DING! when the order is up at the diner.  She looked like she’d rather be getting her yearly well woman exam than hand holding a bunch of rookie speed daters.

Judy:  “Okay.  I’ll need the ladies to take a seat at the marked tables. You’ll stay there and the men will rotate.  We’ll do this 10 times for eight minutes.  Are you ready?  DING!”

In front of me was a card.  There was a line for me to write down a name, a blank portion for me to take notes and then there was an option for me to check yes or no.  Boy.  I couldn’t help but think that Chance Sampson was way ahead of his game when he passed me a note with this exact same layout in third grade.

Please note that the names have been changed to protect the innocent.

First up was Ted.   He was a nervous laugher.

Me:  “Hi Ted!”
Ted:  “Hahahahahahaha.  Hi.  Heeheeheeheeheehee.”

Hoo boy.  Being a realist, I just decided to get the obvious out in the open.

Me:  “So.  Here we are.  Speed dating.  Can you believe it?”
Ted:  “Hahahahahahaha.  No.  Heeheeheeheeheehee.”

Me:  “What do you do for a living?”
Ted:  Hahahahahahaha.  Chemical engineer.  Heeheeheeheeheehee.”

It was very one-sided.  Poor Ted never asked a single question.  I wondered how long he would sit through a pregnant pause, so I gave it a whirl.  I counted to 30 before the bell rang…DING!

Ted laughed and then thanked me, moving on to the next table.  I raised my eyes to Catherine just as she’s taking a sip of her wine, toasting her first guy who was moving on to my table.

DING!

Next was Jason.

Me:  “Hi Jason!”
Jason:  “How do you spell your name?  L-I-N-C-E-E?  That’s weird.”

Me:  “Yep.  But I’m not weird.  I’m pretty cool.”

Pause for laughter. There was no laughter.

Jason:  “What do you do for fun?”
Me:  “Great question.  I like to go to the movies, dance, spend time with my friends, write, read…”
Jason:  “What are you reading?”

I opted not to admit that I am currently reading the new Sookie Stackhouse book.  I needed to make a good impression.  I decided to reveal the last book I read.

Me:  “Prince of Tides.  What are you reading?”
Jason:  “Third Reich.”

Dear reader.  It took all that was in me not to look him directly in the eyes and inquire if he was looking for a woman to bear his Aryan children.  Instead I said:

Me:  “Oh! You’re a history buff, huh?  What’s your favorite book of all time?”
Jason:  “Lord of the Rings.  Have you read it?”

Me:  “Yes I have.”
Jason:  “No…not watched it.  READ IT.”

Me rather coolly:  “Yes.  I have.”

Surprised that I’ve read something other than the Sookie Stackhouse / Hunger Games / Harry Potter / Twilight sagas, Jason suddenly became very interested in my potential.  After all, I do have blond hair and light eyes.  With a little spark and excitement in his voice:

Jason:  “Have you ever read Dune?”
Me:  “Doom?”

Jason (exasperated):  “No.  DUNE.  D-U-N-E.”
Me:  “N-O.”

And then home slice marked something in his booklet about me in the little “notes” section!  NOT KIDDING! I’m guessing Jason circled the negative column.  The people pleaser in me wanted to stop him and start rambling off facts about the Dagobah System and planet Hoth, but I stopped myself.  Jason had made his decision and I needed to respect that.

DING!

The next few speed dating delegates were a bit on the vanilla side for me.  I kept trying to spark a funny conversation or make someone laugh, but it never happened.  I was THIS CLOSE to asking one dude if he’d ever kissed a girl before, but Judy interrupted by ringing her bell. She reminded us that we are halfway though.  DING!

Me:  “Hi Mel.  I’m Lincee.”
Mel:  “Hi.  Do you mind if I write some notes down about the other girls?  I haven’t had time and I don’t want to forget.”

By all means Mel.  Write away.  Don’t mind me at all.

I nurse my amaretto sour.  I notice they’ve dimmed the lights.  We all appear mysterious in candlelight.  I look over at Catherine having a fabulous time.  She’s so good at this.  I look back at Mel, who is now craning his neck to read my friend’s name tag.

Me:  “It’s Catherine.”
Mel:  “Thanks!  Okay.  I’m done.  So…”

DING!

With careful swagger, Giovanni makes his way to my table. He appears to be trying out for a Houston version of Jersey Shore. Oozing confidence in his jet black satin shirt unbuttoned to there, Giovanni swoops in and chooses to use the age old rule of complimenting above the neck.

Giovanni: “You have the most amazing teeth.”
Me: “Why thank you.”

Giovanni: “And you accessorize beautifully. I love your necklace.”
Me: “Wanna borrow it?”

Giovanni tells me he is self-employed. Later, still in the land of Giovanni, he lets it slip that he has a business partner. Realizing that he’s made a significant blunder, he compliments my dress. Apparently the green really brings out my eyes. Note to self.

Just as my ego is about to be deflated, Josh sits down.

Josh:  “So?  How’s your mother?”

I was confused for a split second and then laughed.  FINALLY!  Someone with a sense of humor! Sadly, Josh went on to talk about himself for eight minutes.  It was about halfway through, that I decided he had a hearing impairment.  His voice was just a little off and it took effort to form his words.  Maybe he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to hear me?  That’s why he rambled on about himself?  As he left my table, I leaned over to Catherine and asked if he talked to her.

Catherine:  “Yes, but I could hardly understand him.”
Me:  “Because of the hearing impairment?”
Catherine:  “Uh…no…because he was drunk.”

Clearly, I need to get out more.

Number of engineers?  Six
Number of guys openly obsessed with Battlestar Galactica?  Three
Future totalitarian dictator?  One
Decent material for the blog?  Priceless