Steph Not Stephanie

It’s a night of firsts for StephNotStephanie! Tonight, I went to my first speed dating event and I dragged along my friend Nicole from Don’tCallMeNikki. We’re writing this blog together, making it the first collaboratively written post. I’m so fancy, you already know. P.S. Watch that video. Seriously. Like way harsh, Tai.

(And yes, there was booze. We’re still drinking.)

I convinced Nicole to do this with me about a month ago (with much arm twisting), but our original night was cancelled and rescheduled for this week. Obviously my situation has changed, but when I somewhat hesitantly told JB about it last week (with the caveat that I wasn’t interested in meeting anyone new), he laughed and told me to have fun. He gets me in more ways than I think I even know. It’s ridiculous (in the best way).

I started a new job slinging wine this week, and rolled in about half an hour late. Nicole got there before I did, but because we’re essentially the same person, her game plan was the same as mine would be: stand outside, hesitantly go in and register, get a drink, speak to no one until backup arrived.

Drinks, name tags, and scorecards in hands, we found a table we could sit at together and waited for the men to come to us, (because we’re ladies — the classy bit is still up for debate). We had three minutes with each dude to determine if we liked their faces and words enough to check yes or no. Tinder IRL, with less dick pics.

The first guy checked yes to me — in front of me — which made me feel a bit of an asshole immediately, since I handed back a completely blank sheet. Not that some of the guys weren’t lovely; they just weren’t JB. (Nicole just said, ‘Awww, barf.’ My friends support me, I swear.) Also, since he works in the transit industry and a lot of these guys commuted in from the suburbs, I was constantly reminded of him throughout the evening. Not that I minded — he was the first to get updates when we finished.

Anywho, back to this evening’s shenanigans:

Nicole and I obviously compared notes at break and after the event finished up, and there were definitely some standout candidates (mostly in the blogworthy way, not the ‘please call me tomorrow’ way):

• Elijah got off to a bad start by calling me Stephanie. Nicole still has no idea who the fuck he is. Bai.
• Paolo from Brazil had lightening fades and barely spoke English. Nicole and I both taught ESL for prolonged periods in Asia and still had no idea what the fuck he said. Adios, Paolo.
• Kumar spoke exclusively to my breasts. They did not enjoy the date either. I actually wrote ‘longest three minutes of my life’ in my notes for this Casanova.
• Joåo’s first question to me was, ‘Are you Canadian,’ which made me write VISA in all caps. He and Nicole sat in silence for two minutes. Romance.
• Chianti (his name actually was wine-based, but I’m still protecting identities here) interviewed Nicole like she was applying for a job. ‘Three best qualities?’ Does drinking count as three? He and I discussed stripper names, and he disagreed with my choice of Misty. He christened me ‘Cinnamon’ because I’m spicy. I told him to keep trying that until it worked.
• Keith got right down to business. He asked Nicole what she was looking for in a guy, starting with looks. How do you answer that when the guy across from you is wearing some sort of armband and what could be a mullet? He wasn’t so bad with me, and he did come up with the ingenious idea of designated singles’ areas throughout the city. However, he lost me when I asked him to choose a neighbourhood he identified with and he said King West and Queen West because he’s ‘edgy but he likes his ladies classy.’ Um, no.
• The only person Nicole felt moved enough to make notes for was Jun. With both of us, he sat down and said we had three minutes to ‘make magic happen,’ and wanted to know who we were in 30 seconds or less. I recall him using the word ‘balance,’ before he went straight into ‘finance’ and talking about money for the majority of his time. Nicole heard the same, with the added bonus of how important marriage is to him. He may have left that out for me since Nicole’s eyebrows hit her hairline when he dropped that bomb. I felt like I was in a timeshare sales pitch the entire time.
• The clear winner and favourite of the evening was Bill. He liked Nicole so much he skipped someone to talk to her (until he was chastised and came back to see us at the appropriate time). Nicole single-handedly solved his Halloween problem, while I MacGyvered his name tag (with Nicole’s paper clip because wingwoman wut up). He almost lost me when he started talking about his job in the oil sands, but we salvaged it with some Starship Troopers talk. I, for one, can’t wait for him to date Nicole and read this blog.

After the ‘dates’ concluded, Nicole and I sat in the corner, comparing notes and cackling like the evil witches from Macbeth. Oddly enough, not the first time. Evil laughter notwithstanding, Nicole did check yes with about five suitors. Since I didn’t say yes to a single bro, I think I’m eligible for another event free of charge. I might send Nicole in my stead while I stay home and watch Netflix with JB. (Nicole just said barf again. She’s happy for me, really.)