Twenty dates in one night felt like a lot considering I’d only been on one date for the last six months.
Let me just come right out and say it.
Online dating is a dumpster fire that no amount of water will ever be able to put out. The focus on judging people’s looks, the insults if you don’t immediately want to drop your panties after one sentence, the carousel of unsolicited dick pics… the list goes on.
So when an ad for speed dating popped up in my Facebook feed, I paused. Past Liz would have scrolled on by, but present Liz was so broken down by modern dating hell that she thought “Why the hell not?” Surely it couldn’t get any worse than someone calling you a fat slut because you took too long to text back to someone’s oh-so-enticing invitation to “lick my ass while I masturbate, babe”.
I mean, when you compare it to delightful interactions such as that, speed dating has to be better right? Right?!
And it was. On the night. But afterwards? I’m pretty sure it crushed me more than any online dating stint.
Speed dating, with a twist
One of the main reasons this particular speed dating event piqued my interest was the way it was structured… In order to gain automatic entry, all speed daters had to bring a single friend of the opposite sex that they vouched for. Now, this might not seem so revolutionary, but I’ve heard stories that make this little format tweak super enticing. Stories like how certain male friends of mine, even while already coupled up, have been asked to attend speed dating nights to both make up the numbers, and to flirt with the women to make sure they feel like they’re getting their money’s worth. Which is just gross.