What's the Rush? Part 1

I have not been in a relationship for 8 years.

Take a few moments. Breathe deeply and please stop shaking your head while wondering “How horrible is he?” I know that right now you are forming an image in your mind of what my face looks like and it’s not pretty. You’re picturing a gay Quasimodo with an uncontrollable drooling problem, yet wearing tasteful shoes. Or an unkempt, socially-awkward geek in a powder blue leisure suit with bad hair and no teeth.

Actually, for a number of those 8 years I wasn’t much interested in starting a relationship. I had other things going on that were much more important. The dirty dishes in the sink needed attention. The plants looked thirsty. I needed my Sundays to iron work clothes and prepare for the week ahead. And then “Lost” came on television and I was so consumed by Jack, Kate and the survivors, not to mention all those unanswered questions (a judgemental smoke monster?), that I couldn’t possibly find the time to take on a boyfriend, too. But as my mid-40’s rolled around, it seemed time to try the dating thing again.

Now, when you’re in your 20’s and want to meet someone, you get a group of friends together and head to a bar or club where you drink, dance, then drink some more so that in the morning you can roll over, look at the naked stranger next to you and say “Hi, I don’t remember your name but would you like to have coffee sometime?” This is still a possibility in your 40’s, but I really didn’t want someone I just met seeing my early morning, pre-coffee face. Certainly not if I hoped they’d ever come back again.

So, I explored my options. Being single has become huge business. There are dating sites and matchmakers. There are singles’ nights, dating parties and that old stand-by, having your friends hook you up. There are dating events where people bring someone they rejected, but think a friend might like. (“I couldn’t stomach David because of his horrible odor problem, but I think he’s perfect for you!”) There are personal ads, online profiles and business networking get-togethers which, for single gay men, is just an excuse to cruise the room. So, out of all the options available, what did I choose first?

Speed dating. At speed dating you are told that in a timeframe of 90 minutes, you will be having a series of “mini-dates” with 30 eligible men. Each of these date-lites will last for 3 minutes which gives you the opportunity to decide if you’d be interested in getting to know someone better.

It sounded perfect. I could go out, meet 30 guys and still be home for an early bedtime. And so on the evening I picked for my re-entry into the dating world, I gussied myself up a bit and headed over to Eighth Avenue. While pushing open the door there was just enough time to wonder what the hell I was doing before walking inside.

Speed dating, here I come.