Speed dating clapham souk
I settled on one of the couches on the outside of the room and waited for the conveyor belt of men to begin. A very sweet man, who had just moved from Mumbai to London spent four minutes telling me just how excited he was by the London public transport system, and the fact it runs all night. He got highly confused, and thought I was talking about dating (?! Him – ‘I’m really completely out of my comfort zone here ….’ Cue supportive nods, and ‘well done you’ type sentiments from me ….(He later spent four minutes with Miss 32 discussing the virtues of the Northern Line! I think there were 14 men, and 10 girls, though GENUINELY one girl left after just two dates!!!We disappeared off to a nearby burger bar for a long overdue dinner, and a debrief, which mainly involved a LOT of laughing.The event itself was well-run, but as far as I’m concerned ‘elite’ is a lot more than a pay packet.I jumped on the late train back from Paddington to Reading after my dinner with the girls, only to find the two drunk men sat in front of me in the carriage had just come back from a Speed Dating event.Whilst one tried (painfully awkwardly) to chat me up …If I was going to a speed date to find my ‘One’, then I’d much rather go to an event full of people who play regular sport, or people who have spent a significant period of time travelling.Or even just a room full of people who have a social life away from a computer!
) The other one spent 4 minutes winding me up that my future husband was in the room!
) Other highlights of my evening included a man telling me (seemingly endlessly) about how amazing he is in his job, a small impish man becoming my temporary gay best friend, and a stream of men refusing to sit on the chair opposite me, and awkwardly coming to join me on the restricted couch space. I guess she had a similar approach to dating as Girl Number 1 at the Slow Dating Clapham event!
The epitome of my speed dating experiences to date, a rather overweight, pasty man, with thick glasses and a cold, limp, clammy handshake, spent four painfully awkward minutes alternating long periods of silence with the following three answers. ’ (I know, DUUUUULLL question, but I wasn’t really trying overly hard after the handshake! By the end of my 14 dates, my face literally ached from fake smiling.
’ To be honest, I’m not really sure I would have chosen a speed dating evening based on income if I’d known.
It’s a weird event, because it implies that everyone there feels like their income is a defining part of who they are.