Speed dating Down Under
By Janice Seah
IT'S a Tuesday night in the middle of a nowhere week.
It's a warm summer's evening, perhaps a little too warm for the 20
men and 20 women who are mingling nervously on the verandah of a
smart South Perth restaurant.
A few seem fairly comfortable. A few are turning green. One looks
as though he was green to begin with and was now turning
puce.
All are holding tight to their glasses of Cab Sav or Chardonnay.
Puce Man looked like he could do with a glass of Mylanta
instead.
Except for a few friends who have come together, none of the 40 men
and women know each other.
Enter Ann Taylor to break the ice and get things started. A woman
with a smile as ready as it is warm, Ann has all the motherly
charms of a village matchmaker. And that's what she is. For this
was a speed dating party and Ann is one half of EuroSpeed Dating, a
new Perth company dedicated to bringing people together.
The concept of speed dating is intriguing. It's like one huge blind
date. Think of it as the drive-thru of relationship hunting. It's
quick, it's economical and the menu's pretty extensive.
Men and women call Ann, or her son and business partner Simon, to
book in for one of their weekly functions. She caters to three
age-groups: 25-35, 35-45 and 45-55. There are no economic, academic
or social restrictions or requirements, though Ann would presumably
draw the line at anyone who said he had to leave early for his
weekly parole meeting.
At the restaurant, the couples are each seated at tables for two
and, for three minutes try to get to know one another. At the end
of the three minutes, a bell is rung and, depending on the rules of
the night, either the man or the woman moves to meet the person at
the next table.
It's Some Enchanted Evening meets Burger King. Each person is given
a little 'scorecard' with every participant's name on it. If you
meet someone who gave you a flutter you tick his or her name. Or
names.
Now, it's easy to get cynical about something like this. You have
to admit, it's just a little bit bizarre. But that may only be
because I'm old-fashioned and I like my romance the same
old-fashioned way.
But even I have to admit that practically speaking, this is pretty
hard to beat. How else are you going to meet 20 eligible singles in
one night for just $55? When I was in the game, it cost that much
to buy dinner for one person, let alone 20. And that didn't include
the flowers or the circle seat tickets at Lido Cinema, not to
mention supper at Chatterbox.
For their money, these people get to meet others who are similarly
serious about starting a new relationship, as well as drinks, hors
d'oeuvres, and a magician named Eng Chye who arrives at the end and
performs funny illusions. He does his best to accommodate anyone
who may ask him if he can make them disappear.
But why would you need something like this in Perth? Well
apparently, the Perth dating scene is about as exciting as dry
paint.
'Nobody left to meet', 'nightclubs and pubs, yuk!', 'everyone in my
group's already attached', were some of the reasons offered that
night.
I went along last Tuesday, to a 25-35 get-together. What kind of
people would I meet?
Young, progressive, aggressive professionals who treated their love
lives with the efficiency of a business meeting, or the desperate
and dowdy?
Do nice girls and boys do this sort of thing? And why were they
there?
Well, I'll let them speak for themselves.
There was Vanessa, a most attractive 23-year-old engineer who was
there with her friend Bronwyn, a 24-year-old lawyer.
'Forget nightclubs,' said Vanessa whose family is originally from
Malaysia, and who has lived in Perth for most of her life. 'Just
forget them.'
'I'm here because I never get out of my usual circle, which means
they are people I meet all the time. If I was going to have a
relationship with one of them it would have happened already,'
added Bronwyn. 'As for workmates, I never mix business with
pleasure.'
Then there was Bevan, a 30-year-old labourer who, after two hours
sitting down in a smallish chair was seen rising shakily to his
feet because his knees had cramped.
That's not surprising. Two hours of asking and answering variations
of the same question ('hi, what do you do? What's your favourite
wine/TV show/dog breed?') gets pretty wearing at the end.
'Gosh that was tiring! I was almost sick with fear when I came in,
and then I worried that I might look like a spastic to everyone
else,' said Bevan.
'But it was fun and it's a great concept. Plus I ticked four names.
Hope at least one of them ticks me too. I have to say it got a bit
boring at the end though.'
But how much can you know about a person in three minutes
though?
Donna, a South Korean lab technician, reckoned that 'it's just
nice'.
'Just long enough to know if there's chemistry. Also, if you do
embarrass yourself somehow you know you've only got to last for
three minutes and then you can escape!'
Ann and her team go through the cards the next day. If they find
that a couple has ticked each other, they each receive a call
telling them they've been matched. Sometimes a guy or a girl gets
more than one match.
So Ann's business is booming. After a slow start, word of mouth
worked its magic and Ann is booked solid for every function a few
months ahead.
It's been so successful that Ann is even thinking she might try
this out in Singapore.
Yes, it's time for speedy romance, Singapore.
