So, being a Jewish girl in search of Mr. Right, I decide to do the most Jewy thing possible: Shabbat dinner at a local Jewish organization. Normally I wouldn't attend anything from this organization, because they are mildly cultish, but I had a brief change of heart when I got an email from them about their new take on speed dating.
Speed dating that is mildly slower because you are eating a Shabbat dinner! What could be better?
The concept was a good one: have a bunch of tables where random assignments of women and men will sit together, changing table assignments for each course. Each person is given a name tag with business cards with their personal information on it to give to people they click with. Sounds good right?
The execution of the plan wasn't the smoothest (the random assignments for each course led to repeat people at each table), but the night was fun. Here's the rundown:
Course #1: We sit down, introduce ourselves, and begin the evening. I survey the table...slim pickings to be honest. Most of the guys at the table are short and not really my type. One guy, however, strikes my fancy: Garry. Tall, cute, kinda skinny (not really my thing, but I could work with it), and when he looks at me I get all sorts of nervous and butterfly-esque. We start flirting, subtly of course, and before I know it, the first course is over and we exit into the lobby while they change the tables around.
Break in the Lobby: I meet up with my friend who accompanied me that night only to find her with two guys we met at speed dating. One of the guys is the guy that I totally clicked with over David Duchovny. We all start chatting about our first course, and then about things in general. I finally turn around to the guy I liked and asked why he didn't "YES" me for the speed dating. He said he wasn't a member and didn't log on at all for anyone.
Hmmmm...lame excuse or the truth? We shall see.
Course #2: Due to the random assignment, I'm at my second table with two guys from my first table (unfortunately not Garry). The conversation was nice, but nothing impressive by anyone there. Garry, however, was at an adjacent table making eye contact every now and then. I love flirting with the eyebrows!
Dessert course (in the lobby): Garry and I start flirting hardcore. Physical contact is made (thank goodness he isn't shomer), tickling occurs, people ask how long we have known each other. Huh? For like, um, 15 minutes?
I give him my card and go off to play with my other friends.
My friend, the two guys from speed dating and I decide to go out to a bar.
Two chocolate martinis later, I am calling out Californication-boy out on him being a player; someone who loves the chase, but that's about all he likes. He tells me I'm wrong and that he'll call me. We exchange numbers (I put him in as "so-and-so who will never call"). I'm going to be sooooooo right about him.
Why am I so gutsy to call a guy out? Read "Why Men Love Bitches". It will change your life.
Now, I'm waiting to see who I hear from.
