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| Photograph © Zarina Holmes |
| "...I’ve found out there is a huge array of events out there for the single and lovelorn, some of which sound scarier than others." |
Words by Madeleine Armstrong So Valentine’s Day is fast approaching, and no hint of a hot date in sight. With my recent track record, I think I need to reassess my approach to dating – even if time has already run out this year, there’s always 2010. My short-lived experiment with internet dating already seems to be over. I don’t like to generalise, but the guys I met on there were…shall we say, slightly socially inept. Maybe it was the site I used, or the specific men I attracted, but when someone you once had a couple of drinks with confronts you in a pub (where you bumped into each other again by chance) to ask why you haven’t been in contact, and what’s wrong with him, well, it’s not exactly appealing, is it? Ditto speed dating. I tried the wine-tasting version, which promised to be more friendly and not as intense – rather than three minutes one-on-one, you got to chat in groups of three women and three blokes, whilst drinking wine and pretending you cared about which variety it was. I admit it was a nice dynamic. But that was before you factored in the vast quantities of wine, and the men. Many told me that they weren’t really bothered about the dating side of the evening, and had come as part of a BOGOF deal in an attempt to get enough males to come to the event. A bit galling when us ladies had paid about thirty quid for the privilege to chat to men who, it turned out, weren’t even interested! And the wine clouded my judgement: I managed to invite another guy to a house party at mine the next night (why, oh why?!), helpfully making sure he got there by drawing a little map on a napkin. There was no getting out of that one. When he did turn up it was with a mate and a bottle of champagne. They both proceeded to drink themselves into a stupor and fall asleep on my sofa which, although it wasn’t ideal, at least meant it was easy to chuck them out. So, what next? Delving deep into the recesses of the dating world, I’ve found out there is a huge array of events out there for the single and lovelorn, some of which sound scarier than others. Some of the ones that actually appealed to me seem fraught with danger.
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| Romance by the River Seine, Paris. Photograph © Salina Christmas |
| "So I settled on speed hating. The premise is similar to speed dating, but instead of just chatting for three minutes, you focus on things you hate." |
Dating karaoke is probably the most fun thing I can think of, but when I take to the mic it might scare the blokes off, which kind of defeats the object. A pub quiz/speed dating hybrid, where competitors swap teams as they go along, sounds great, but my lack of general knowledge could be embarrassing. Similarly, table-football dating would expose my limp left wrist – although I could be at an advantage if shorts are mandatory. And as for dating while learning aerobic dance routines, complete with Flashdance-style fancy dress – surely, SURELY, most of the men that go to this must be gay? I’ve had a hard enough time getting exes to go salsa dancing. Some of the less appetising options (to me, at least) include silent dating (actually, on second thoughts this might be a good idea, judging by some of my dates); dog walking dating (not a bad concept but I don’t think my landlord would be chuffed if Lassie moved in); clothes-swapping dating (whaaat?); and lunchtime dating (after the few drinks I usually have to calm my nerves on a date, returning to work could be disastrous). All they need to do now is invent dating bowling – teaming up my least favourite “sport” with over-competitive, testosterone-fuelled blokes sounds like my idea of hell. So I settled on speed hating. The premise is similar to speed dating, but instead of just chatting for three minutes, you focus on things you hate. This is meant to uncover common bonds (or maybe it’s just an excuse for people to have a good moan). I think it sounds fun, if taken with a pinch of salt, but it also has the potential to attract people who are about as cheerful as Morrissey. But it transpires I may never meet my discontented Smiths fan. Unforeseen circumstances mean I will be going back to the family home this weekend, so will end up spending Valentine’s Day with my mum and dad. I’m not sure if this is a sad state of affairs, or a defiant “up yours” to commercialised romance – I hope it’s the latter. Madeleine Armstrong is a life science journalist.
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