Adventures in Speed Dating

It was one of those days when I was "busy" in the way that only someone standing around watching other people doing stuff can be. I've never really understood why they like me to stand there and watch them infuse drug. I mean, I can tell you the drug infuses at a rate of 480 with set volume of 50 (and now that I write that I'm not even sure that is accurate) but I can't tell you what that means, how it was calculated or why it's right. Yet they want me standing there all day "just in case." If there's a grammatical emergency I can help you, anaphylaxis or malignant hypertension, not so much. It's why I'm going to nursing school, but that's neither here nor there.

So anyways, there I was, busy watching other people be busy when a nurse on the unit, we'll call her Lori (mostly because her name is Lori) asked if I wanted to go speed dating. Now before you start judging let's clear up two things: the event would be free for me to attend and the day before I had found out that my ex-boyfriend was legit dating someone new. So stop judging.  However, in the very least I did  learn a few things:

Lesson #1: Couples and Married people think that Speed Dating "sounds like fun.

It’s kind of like how camping sounds like a hoot until you do it in Florida in July.  I do appreciate though that when I call them and say “I’m going speed dating!” they find a way to put a positive spin on it. They are very good friends. So while tomorrow I may try to convince you that I'm living Sex in the City, Gainesville Edition, there’s no question in my mind: love that person sleeping next to you and appreciate that you came home to them instead of going out speed dating.

Lesson #2: I am the asshole 29 year old who went to the 35 to 45 year old speed-dating group.

I found myself guiltily telling a series of lies, each one more egregious than the next, in order to atone for this.  Are you really thirty-seven?  I WORE SUNCREEN BITCHES!! I TAKE EXCELLENT CARE OF MY SKIN. It's  not exactly an unforgivable transgression, and I can always take some comfort in knowing that in fifteen or twenty years I'll be the 44 year old woman at her third round of speed dating thinking "that bitch is SO not 37." And I'll be right. It’ll serve me right for my assholetry.

Lesson #3: Going to the wrong age group means you meet people who are waaay too old for you.

Duh right?  Still, there was one guy who was marginally nice. He was charming(ish), good looking and had the ability to hold a reasonably entertaining 5 minute conversation. (It’s deceptively difficult.) Yeeeahhhh…his daughter is only three years younger than me. So there I was in the wrong age group and wondering if I can put a comment in my "no thank you" box that says "you aren’t repulsive but I'm a dick who came to the wrong age group and you could have begotten me with your first wife."  I went instead with a classic no thank you, it just seemed simpler.  

 Lesson #4:  Speed Dating is like a goddamn firing range.

 5 minute conversations, over and over, and over…and over again. Delivering the same less than cleaver platitudes: I got my master’s degree in secondary education because I thought I wanted to teach...until I started teaching!  Or, “wow, working with" cancer patients must be tough?"  "You know, it’s like any other job, good days and bad days."  After fifteen or twenty of these you can only wish that you were on the business end of a firing range.

Lesson #5: Ain’t nobody got time for this shit.

Free or not, chances are it won’t be happening again.