Note: This is the entry I thought I posted yesterday. Somehow I failed to do so. Perhaps it’s the Alzheimer’s setting in. Consider this today’s first post, to be followed later in the day by a second. Because God forbid anybody should miss a single word I write. I mean, what if Colin Farrell is reading this and today’s second post is the one that would make him realize he is my soul mate but he didn’t know to read it because he didn’t know there was going to be a second post and we would never be together?
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On Tuesday I am going to a Hurry Date event. This means that over the course of an evening I will have 25 three-minute dates. Apparently a whistle blows to tell you when your three-minute date is over and it’s time to move on to the next one.
The more I think about it, the more absolutely ideal this whole setup seems for real dating. Because although three minutes isn’t enough for you to find out if you like somebody, it’s often more than enough for you to find out if you don’t like him. For example, if he says any of the following things:
“It’s not that I disagree with you. I just think you have a lot to learn, is all.”
“The Log Cabin Republicans meeting last night was really great!”
“I’m not racist. I think lots of black people are nice.”
With the hours I would have saved by having a whistle blow to end these dates then and there, I could have written Pride and Prejudice.
Or at least Emma.
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