Say something, anyway.

I don’t think anyone will ever top the weirdest man I ever speed dated, but I recently met another guy who may go down in infamy– as the WORST speed dater in the world.

To begin with, even though our date occurred in the middle of the event, he couldn’t figure out where to go. After everyone else had switched partners, he was still wandering aimlessly around the room, as if I, the only girl sitting by myself in a room full of couples, was invisible. Finally, he sat down, skooched his chair away from me and whispered, “How old are you?”

Maybe 31 was the wrong answer (although since he was 30, it seemed reasonable) and that’s why he spent the rest of the date staring at the paper in his lap. At first, I thought he was glancing at the suggested questions provided by the organizers. But as the silence grew longer, to the point where it could swallow our entire date, I concluded that there wasn’t any question coming.

So I got things started. Sticking to the old standbys, I asked what he likes to do for fun. “Not much,” he said. “If I have free time, I sit in front of my computer.”

And then he went back to staring at his lap. But having collected that juicy tidbit, I pressed on for more. “Do you like to go out to eat?” I asked, inspired by my last date, who had explained that being macrobiotic (“Sort of like vegan, but no one outside of LA understands,” he said) limited his restaurant options.

“No, I don’t like to eat in public places,” he said.

“Oh, so, do you cook?” I asked.

“No, I don’t cook,” he said. Mysterious, no? Maybe one of those raw food advocates? I eventually pried out of him that while he’s sitting in front of the computer, his mom is downstairs cooking dinner.

At last, our date was over. I took advantage of the hike he took around the room before sitting down with the girl right next to me to wish her “Good luck with that.” She looked perplexed, but four minutes later, she nodded knowingly.


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