Ready? Set? Date! Eight minutes to love and romance

The Argus

Last week I received an e-mail that read:

Erika Nest wants you to come along to the 8minuteDating party at:

The Refectory - Portland, OR

Friday, January 14, 2005

Ages: 23-33

Single Professionals

She did it. Erika, my roommate, asked me if I would try eight-minute dating with her. Sometimes called speed dating, it's a fad that's been sweeping the country for at least a couple years.

Did I really want to spend $35 of my hard-earned Argus paycheck on this? Well, maybe I could at least find a story to tell.

So last Friday night, two roommates hit the town for eight-minute dating.

Speed dating work like this: Female participants are each assigned a table where they remain seated during the event. The men approach a table, sit down and the event begins. Couples then have eight minutes to introduce themselves and learn about each other.

Each person is provided with a dating card that includes a list of conversation topics, like: Where did you grow up? What's the best trip you've ever taken? Do you follow current events? What do you think about...?

The host, Mark MacGibbon, rings a bell when eight minutes is up. Couples say their good-byes (except for Richard, a petite culinary student in glasses. How rude!). The men move down the line to the next table and the process repeats itself until all participants have "dated."

During a 15-minute intermission I scoured the complementary appetizers. I met Andrea, a perky curly-haired gal like myself from New York City and Steven, a mellow guy from Houston. There we were, laughing, talking and enjoying our new friendship.

It was relaxing, and much more my style.

Then I remembered: My first date was a sophisticated Indian man named Gona who had lived in several hot spots around the world such as Paris, before moving to Portland a few months ago. He works in Hillsboro and even knows of the Argus!

Jeff, man number two, also knew of the Argus. He was tall, blonde and casual, works in Beaverton and like my other speed-daters, was new to the area.

So was handsome and clean-cut Jeremy from Wyoming. With rugged facial features, he said he works long hours not for the thrill, but so he doesn't have to spend evenings alone in an empty apartment.

Dan, yet another out-of-towner, and I ended up talking about the drama with the Washington County Fair Board.

In eight minutes, Jim, a Portland lawyer, told me about an ex girlfriend and attempted to ask me about my last relationship. His bulging arm muscles made me ask him if he works out. Ding. Saved by the bell.

I learned that David attends my church. I was surprised that we had never met.

As I got to know these men and learned why they decided to try eight-minute dating, I found most had something in common:

New to the area. Busy at work. Or, as host MacGibbon put it, willing to speed date, but unavailable for a serious relationship. As newcomers, they didn't have the roots and social circles that Erika and I have. After all, we were both born and raised in Portland suburbs, attended Valley Catholic High School and stayed in the area after college.

Outside of romantic inclinations, I felt I'd found kindred spirits in my new speed-dater friends. I collected phone numbers and e-mail addresses, which I later learned is against eight-minute dating rules. We don't receive contact information until we check the website the next day to see if anyone chose us as a match, and we chose them, for a date, friend or business contact.

Two asked me for a second date. One is interested in a friendship with my roommate.

I promised to invite them to social events I attend or to a group dinner, game or movie night to meet friends I already have.

Maybe it's not so much romance we're seeking. In a mobile world, where jobs and curiosity take us to unfamiliar places, sometimes we need a catalyst, like a friend or familiar face, to bring people together. And I believe it's so much better to discover a romantic relationship that way, through timeless and priceless camaraderie.