Speed dating host jobs
The responses not only reflected an amazing group of individuals, but proved the point that participants are not as odd or desperate as speed-dating critics or Hollywood directors might portray them.
Any single who’s snubbed a speed-dating event may have missed the opportunity to chat with a woman who spent a week at wilderness survival school, someone who has seen the world’s three biggest barrier reefs, a Habitat for Humanity devotee, or a man who had a one-on-one lunch with Bill Gates.
If your would-be date/friend/business associate checked the same box you did, the system would alert you both and exchange contact information. One of the first sentiments out of this man’s mouth was that the women at this event were judgmental and unfriendly. But he was a customer, after all, and I was in essence being paid for setting him up with these women. There was one attendee, a talkative, confident “regular” who I recognized from my first event. Visit her blog, “The Social Medium” (hilorywithano.wordpress.com) and follow her on Twitter (@hilorywagner).
When those eight minutes were up, the ding was either a welcome peal signaling the end of the longest eight minutes ever, or an abrupt end to a beautiful beginning.
Whether there were eight or 80 couples in the restaurant, they would have eight dates. You know, I saw a woman head down to the ladies room. “Imagine eight dates in one night,” the newscaster bellowed.
After the event, participants would log into their computerized accounts, choose who they were interested in either dating again, forming a friendship with, or networking with, and put a check next to their name-codes. I didn’t need eight minutes with him; 20 seconds was enough. My allegiance, my responsibility, was to my customers. But before the camera crews packed up, the male owner offered a final plea. They flashed the wooden street sign for the restaurant and showed a few people in silhouette—not even from my event—talking outside. (Recently, though, that restaurant went out of business.) Hilory Wagner is an author, national magazine contributor, and social mediaholic who blogs about the impacts of new age communications on our lives, work, and relationships.
The speed dating company had requested their stuff back when I informed them it “just wasn’t working out.” I layered colored folders labeled “Dating Cards,” “Seating Assignments,” and “Welcome Posters” upon each other, slid them lovingly into the black canvas briefcase branded “8minute Dating,” and sighed. Sure, it felt a bit petty to me that after all we’ve been through in the last eight months, that they’d make a stink over a stapler, some folders, and an electronic timer that malfunctioned from the get-go.
I will grant them, however, the black canvas briefcase—that was pretty sweet.