Cringe.

Still unable to believe that I’m here, I find the piece of paper I crumpled up and see a hastily scrawled number thirteen. Of course I get number thirteen. The unluckiest of all the numbers. That figures.

The harder I try to squeeze into the seat next to the wall, the more fuss I appear to make until someone (my first speed dater) sees me struggling. In an effort to avoid any more awkwardness, he tries to help me by pulling out the table, which only helps me thump into the seat with a force neither of us was prepared for. I laugh a touch too loud for it to be genuine.

Now, I hate to say it, but after a few five-minute sessions I can see the benefits of speed dating. I’ve heard more mature people than me say that when house-hunting you can tell within the first seven seconds if you’re going to like a property or not. And I think the same can be said of people.

The first two are instant noes; my notepaper remains blank. The third is a maybe, as is the fifth, until the conversation quietens (briefly), causing him to bring out a list of questions he commonly asks when dating. The questions include: ‘What do you look for in a mate?’, ‘How strong is your moral compass?’, ‘Do you want children?’ and ‘If yes, would you be comfortable with your mother-in-law playing an active role in disciplining your child?’

Luckily the bell rings before I have time to actually answer any of the questions, allowing me a breather in which to take a fortifying gulp of wine before my next appointment.

I look up and over to assess my next Speedy Dater.

Crap.

It’s Oddly Bodley.

Part of me is relieved to see Peter, a friendly face who will give me some reprieve from the stilted conversations with strangers, but the larger part of me is dying of shame that someone I know has found me speed dating.

And there is no way out. Damn these stupid pub benches with their velvet bum pillows and unhelpfully heavy tables.

He looks at me and smiles. I can’t help but smile back.

‘Is it just me, or is it mildly depressing being here? I feel like I should give up now and invest in one of those companies that specializes in meals for one.’ He takes a seat and leans forward conspiratorially. ‘It’s nice to see you though. I didn’t know you came to these things.’

‘Oh no, no, I don’t come to these things. I mean, obviously I do come to these things because I’m here, but this is my first time.’ Why am I blabbering? In my lifetime I’ve spoken to Peter for many, many hours. Why am I all of a sudden flustered at having to speak to him for five minutes? My hands are flapping now, which can’t be a good thing. I sit on them. ‘You don’t need to be here, you’ve never had a problem finding a date. I feel like you’ve taken a ticket away from someone whose dating need is greater than yours.’