Comments on: Post-Apocalyptic Dating for the Young Professional

By: Alison Aucoin

Alison Aucoin — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 20:31:01 +0000

The drunk ones have the right idea!

By: Joe Daly

Joe Daly — Wed, 10 Mar 2010 18:52:09 +0000

Spectacular. How about the 7 minute Anti-Semite? Whoa, Nelly…

A friend and I tried this maybe a year and a half ago. Same deal- seven minutes per encounter. Unfortunately, they grouped ages by ten years, beginning at 18. So 18-27 had their little room, then there were the 28-37 people heading off into their room. I think I was either 39 or 40. Anyway, I ended up in the 38+ crew. So I was younger than the other guys by an average of 15 years. It was horrifying. The only fun I had was listening to the guy in front of me tell the same story to each girl he met, while getting progressively more hammered with each date.

Anyway, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I would like to underscore the “nothing gained” part.

Thanks for the great read!

By: Greg Olear

Greg Olear — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 01:33:07 +0000

It sounds like, to cop Delmore Schwartz’s line, a ferryboat of the damned on the way across the Styx. The only place you could have found worse candidates was jury duty.

And I hope you got your friend back for bailing on you like that!

I love the guy who talks about “the Fat Tuesday.” And Applebee’s! In NOLA! If he were dead, Emeril would be spinning in his grave…

By: Greg Olear

Greg Olear — Wed, 02 Dec 2009 01:28:43 +0000

Yes, yes, the plumber! Plumbers make oodles of dough, and are always in short supply. (There’s a joke about laying pipe, too, but I’m not going to make it…)

By: Jeremy Resnick

Jeremy Resnick — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 19:28:30 +0000

Really enjoyed this, Alison. So much weirdness in so small a space! I choked on my coffee at the false eyelashes. And good work avoiding repeating your mistakes with bachelor number 2.

By: Marni Grossman

Marni Grossman — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 18:59:46 +0000

When watching reality TV, you find yourself wondering where all these wacky people came from. Surely no one in real life is actually like that, you think. And then you read this. Turns out they all hail from New Orleans.

By: Gloria

Gloria — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 06:09:42 +0000

Every time I have a delusion about dating randoms, I troll craigslist. That usually takes care of my dimentia for a few minutes.

By: Alison Aucoin

Alison Aucoin — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 02:16:52 +0000

Thanks for the comments guys, but sorry, weekly column’s not in the offing. That was a long time ago. Life’s now populated by feverish toddler, cranky old dog, and demonic toilet. Dang, maybe I should have overlooked the Bukowski connection & gone out with plumber after all…

By: Steve Sparshott

Steve Sparshott — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 01:42:34 +0000

Let’s hear it for the perfectly-placed adjective: “He rang an obnoxious bell…”

Bill Gates was a bit of a cheeky groover back in the day: http://wilsonfu.files.wordpress.com/2007/09/bill-gates-mugshot-photo.jpg - you could do worse!

It’s weird, but I don’t think I’ve ever been on a bad date, let alone six in one night.

By: Zara Potts

Zara Potts — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 00:41:38 +0000

I so want to try speed dating now!! Such great material!
Too funny!

By: Simon Smithson

Simon Smithson — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 23:09:57 +0000

HA! Awesome. And at least you got a fantastic story about it.

I agree with Megan. You should make this a weekly column.

By: Megan DiLullo

Megan DiLullo — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 21:31:07 +0000

Dating is one of the cruelest slapstick sketches ever. But it makes for hilarious stories. I’ve always secretly wanted to date a rodeo clown, just to say I had.

I think you should go back so I can live vicariously through you.

By: kristen

kristen — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 19:16:18 +0000

Haha. Awesome story!

“Maybe, between the nerd, the plumber, the eyelashes, the clown, and the penis, I missed a gem. I guess I’ll never know.”

Looking forward to more.

By: Amanda

Amanda — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 17:41:04 +0000

Ohhh so good! You are brave! The closest I have to a speed-dating story of my own is the night a girlfriend called me on her way home from a blind date set up by her aunt. The guy had spent the evening reading his watch and finally announced that he had to dash, “because my speed dating starts in fifteen minutes!” Like shorthand for, “Sorry, honey, this isn’t working out and right now there are thirty lucky ladies waiting three blocks away for their chance at my heart!”

I tried Internet dating with much the same results–like hitting yourself in the head, it’s so good when you stop. I got the short dude whom I suppose didn’t realise yeah, he can say he’s 5′9″ on his profile but when I show up in heels and really do stand 5′6″ before I put ‘em on, and he’s up to my eyebrows in our bare feet, well, I’m going to detect his fib. The guy who told nonstop college drinking tales through brunch (and was in his late 40s). The guy who toasted our date “to new beginnings”, and then really did yawm and drop his arm around my shoulders…and so on.

Sadly, there was no glass-eye-tapping, clowning, or racism during my dates, because dang, all that sounds super-fun! Cripes. Dating. Hmmm.

By: Matt

Matt — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 17:02:02 +0000

I once gave thought to trying a speed-dating event, just for laughs. I dismissed the notion at the time, but I may now have to revisit it.

‘He said that he’d had the recent experience of presenting his business card to a “n***** woman” who worked in a casino on the Mississippi Coast.’ Ah, casual southern racism. When I first moved to New Orleans I was shocked how prevalent it still is down there. I once heard a tenured Tulane professor refer to black people as “those negros.” Floored me.