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Singles and dating news
The (speed) dating game
Reporter finds speed dating a fun ride
You'll forgive my use of the cliched analogy, but there's simply no other way to describe it.
Speed dating -- I discovered for the first time Wednesday night -- is an emotional roller coaster.
The anticipation is hell, but the ride is pure exhilaration.
Like the real thing, you come away feeling that:
1. You survived, even though your inner demons insisted you wouldn't.
2. Really, the ride was much too short.
3. You want to go again and again and again.
And to think, it might never have happened.
Or so it seemed minutes before the advertised 7 p.m. kick-off of "Let's Mingle," Cumberland County's very own version of the nationwide speed-dating trend.
With only seven guys and two girls willing to participate, the whole thing seemed on the verge of collapse.
The event is set up for an equal number of single men and women who are allotted seven minutes of Q&A to determine if the other person is dating material.
Wednesday night's event at the Eastside Café was geared at singles ages 25 to 35.
"We provide a service for single people to go out and have fun," said Rick Noblett, 32, the Millville resident who crafted the localized spin with partner Frank DeVita, 34, of Vineland.
But at the outset, it appeared there might be doom for singledom this night.
Some people backed out of the deal, citing the lack of variety among participants.
There were too many guys and too few girls, moaned Roger Coggwell, 25.
Many faces were the depressingly familiar ones from high school, some said.
"I don't need to do that," said Steve Weisman, 27, of Vineland. "I know everybody in Vineland. If this is some kind of singles night, every Friday night here is a singles night."
So, in the usual fashion, the clique of old friends kept to themselves. Great way to find a date, guys.
But I'll admit I, too, had my misgivings.
With such a poor turnout, the event was postponed an hour in the hope that some last-minute stragglers might be persuaded to join.
I'd volunteered to participate at the request of editors here and I agreed to recount my experience.
I'm also single. In my mind, there was a certain degree of shame inherent in the idea of a third-party set-up. Like resorting to the Internet or personal ads, I considered it a desperate act I swore I'd never do.
And there's the ever-present fear of rejection.
What if nobody picks me?
But I had a safeguard at my disposal: the excuse that I was a newsreporter and just doing this for "the job." I would end up using it shamelessly in my favor.
When the participants were finally summoned to the dance floor, no one moved. My first thought was: "Good, I won't have to do it. But I'll still have a story to write under the headline, "Speed dating a resounding flop in Vineland."
But then the first brave soul, Neil "the banker," made his way down, imbued with Todd Beamer-esque confidence.
"OK, let's do this," he said.
Then followed the rest, my shame-faced self included. I wore my nametag like it was a scarlett letter.
Total number of participants: 14.
And, two to a table, we were off in a dizzying 7-minute race against time.
I asked the standard questions, and, at first, I was so nervous I only half listened.
How old are you?
What do you do?
Blah blah blah corrections officer blah blah blah ... prisoners, one answered.
Then as my jittery nerves subsided and I finally started to listen -- time's up.
On to the next one.
Navy Reserves man. He told me he worked with Morse Code and I, intrigued, asked him to explain it. (Stupid question!)
We both fell into a hopeless quagmire that exhausted at least four minutes.
After seven minutes, I knew nothing about the guy and I still didn't understand a single thing about Morse Code, despite some great demonstrations on his part.
No match.
Neil's friend, named for the Michael J. Fox character in Back to the Future. He likes sports and cooking. I'm not a fan of the first, and my great feat in the kitchen is a grilled cheese sandwich.
No match.
I'll paraphrase the firefighter: Let me tell you about myself in big house fire (OK, I responded), myself on a booze cruise, myself on a Caribbean island.
Ugh.
Steve, relationship guy.
Looking for a commitment. Lots of baggage. My immediate impulse was to run. But I hung around and discovered to my pleasant surprise that he was a pretty nice guy.
And there were more and then it was over and the matches were discreetly tallied.
Everyone casually dispersed through the bar.
It was then that I heard participants relate stories about their own insecurities. It seems I hadn't been alone.
"The dating world is very scary," said Alice Beamer, 31, of Williamstown. "Like Forrest Gump says, "Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're going to get."
And you'll never know until you start living it, either.
No, I didn't meet the man of my dreams.
Yes, I was rejected.
But I'd done something I never thought I'd do and met a number of great people in the process. I'd plunged feet first into a world of uncertainty and I'd survived.
Speed dating and I are a match.