So I went speed dating last week and it was a much more rewarding experience than I’d anticipated. You know the drill; seven guys, seven chicks, seven minutes to make their respective cases, then the chicks take a step to the left and the interview juggernaut moves on until all the chicks have met all the guys. At the end of the evening, if anyone fancies anyone else, they ask the moderator for their details, the moderator checks with the intended victim and if it’s OK with them…the deal is made.
Well, even I can hold my conversational end up for seven minutes, especially when compared to the sort of competition provided by the other six cabbages in the game, so I was quietly confident of at least one expression of interest.
Which I got; a nice looking brunette, Vanessa asked for my contact details and I gladly gave permission to release them. Vanessa was thirty-six, single, a veterinary surgeon at Taronga Park Zoo…and she’d had a rough day. The zoo had apparently lost one of their adult giraffes to a lightning strike during the violent storm that battered Sydney that afternoon, so she was quite depressed about it all.
Rather than let Vanessa grieve in peace, I asked why they didn’t have lightning rods placed around the compound to conduct the deadly electrical bolts away from the giraffes, given that they’re so fucking tall and come with those two stupid little horns, which as far as I can tell serve no purpose other than to actually attract lightning?
Vanessa mistook the sarcasm for some sort of sincere concern on my part for the welfare of the surviving giraffes and decided I was worth pursuing. We had a private little chat around 9pm, felt an instant attraction and in the spirit of speed dating resolved to keep the evening’s momentum going.
We went for a quick drink at ‘MPB’ around 9-30pm, grabbed some fast food in ‘Burger King’ at 10pm, sped back to Cunt Point on ‘The Stealth Vespa’ and leapt into bed for a quick fuck at 11pm, had a short post-sex nap, woke up around midnight for a brief discussion regarding our respective dreams for the future, realised we had somehow grown apart, agreed to a trial separation by 12-15am, gave the relationship a second chance at 1am, ran out of things to talk about by 2am, spent half an hour in silent resentment of all the time we’d wasted and finally split up for good at 3am.
Vanessa left in a taxi at 3-20am, she SMS’d at 3-30am to say she missed me.
I sobbed quietly until nearly 3-32am.
By 4am I couldn’t remember what she looked like anymore.
It’s true what they say about time healing wounds…