 "Photo: chris ankney")
Like a candlelit carousel, they rotate the room at a dizzying pace, changing places every three minutes in hopes of finding someone who ignites a spark.
Twenty introductions, which equals twenty opportunities to reinvent myself if I so choose.
The mission: to meet several compatible singles in the romance express lane, rather than wasting an entire awkward evening checking out one.
The rules: no mention of last names, workplace or residence. E-mail addresses will be exchanged afterward, and only if both parties have privately consented.
Speed dating, popularized by movies like "Hitch" and "The 40-Year-Old Virgin," was the name of the game Friday night in the Student Union Auditorium, attracting about 60 students for a fundraising event to help feed Lucas County's children.
"It's an alternative to the bar scene, and the way it's done is classy," said Kelly Meighan, a senior majoring in marketing and international business and vice president of the Student Honors Council, which sponsored the event.
To satisfy my own curiosity, I set out to find out how I would fare in this face-off of first impressions.
Candles, candy hearts and Hershey's Kisses scattered across the tables set a surprisingly sweet ambiance. With a plentiful stock of Red Bull, I'm beginning to see that "speed dating" might be an adrenaline rush in more ways than one.
Judging from the pre-date chatter I overhear, I realize there's still a certain stigma attached to this relatively revolutionary way of meeting people, established by a California rabbi in 1999 to allow a chaperoned way for Jewish singles to find suitable marriage partners.
"I'd be pretty embarrassed if I met my girlfriend through speed dating," said Chris Snyder, a sophomore majoring in criminal justice.
Snyder said he's holding out for a more "romantic" chance meeting "like my puppy running up to a girl."
Others, myself included, question the likelihood of establishing a meaningful connection with anyone in a three-minute session.
Nonetheless, I slap on a nametag, take my assigned seat and let the games begin.
My first meeting is expectedly formal, with conversation barely branching beyond standard topics of year, major and hometown before the sound of an anemic buzzer halted our exchange.
Five or six dates fly by in a similar fashion. For the most part, I find myself wishing I had a little more time, recalling that typical speed-dating events usually allot 7-to-10 minute increments.
But during one lethargic encounter, I find myself glancing over my shoulder about every 10 seconds like one of Pavlov's dogs, anticipating the sound that promised freedom.
While browsing through the laughable pick-up lines provided to every participant, I actually consider checking this one's tag and asking if he was "made in heaven" just to see if I can elicit any sort of emotional response from him.
Although my dates seldom disclose anything noteworthy, I find myself fascinated by how much each one subtly reveals through silence.
Some smile instantly and exude all the confidence of boardroom executives as they firmly grasp my hand. Others look down and offer me something akin to a cold, clammy fish.
Ironically, these are the ones who seem the most hopeful about meeting a potential.
Chris Dauer, a sophomore majoring in communication, said he believes the possibility of finding a date could work if two people clicked right away.
Otherwise, it's just a good way to "get yourself out there," he said, noting that he'd already marked several participants as possible dates.
For Wade Abbot, a sophomore majoring in computer networking administration, speed dating is practical because he lives and works off campus, where it's difficult to meet people his age, he said.
Wade echoed the sentiments of other older students whose demanding work schedules left little time for traditional dating.
After a 10-minute intermission, I'm recharged and ready for Round II.
Bored with the all-too-predictable direction our conversations have been taking, I start prompting my dates with questions about what creature they would have been in a past life, what song best describes them and what their earliest childhood memory involved.
Aside from a few puzzled looks, most were good sports.
Some told me they were excited by the challenge of starting conversations outside their usual circle, even if it didn't necessarily lead to romance.
Others, like Tracy Benson, enjoyed the one-on-one attention they said they wouldn't normally get from group dates.
"We got made fun of a lot for coming here, but I'm really glad we did," said Benson, a freshman majoring in physical therapy. "It was a lot less threatening and less pressure than going on a regular date."
Caitlin Frost, a first-year student majoring in criminal justice, said she wished there was a more specific way to categorize dates rather than checking a simple yes or no.
"There should be a category for someone you wouldn't mind seeing again as a friend and a category for someone you actually do want to date," Frost said. "The whole yes-no thing was pretty cut-and-dried."
In the end, I gave all of my contestants the benefit of the doubt for putting up with me, reasoning that by checking yes for everyone, the worst I could get was an easy-to-delete e-mail from someone I felt indifferent about seeing again.
Meighan said she hopes to hold another speed dating event in the spring, giving priority to the 10 men who wanted to participate but were put on a waiting list to limit the program's size.
The Student Honors Council collected a total of 455 canned goods to donate to Feed Lucas County Children, Inc.
Be the first to comment on this article!