Speed dating vancouvert russiandating com au

I’m becoming a creature of habit, routine, and structure these days.) So needless to say, I didn’t know what “dress to impress” meant. Since it was in Yaletown, I’d normally have taken my scooter over, but considering I’d managed to get my hair in a not-totally-embarrassing condition (and locked it in place with eight pounds of hair spray), I didn’t want a helmet to jumble it up.

In the end, I comprimised: Casual outfit on top, black slacks, and black shoes (and matching socks — ! I took a cab and only then did I realize my black pants were completely covered with cat fur, courtesy of my two kitties!

“Engineers and one doctor.” With one exception, all the women were very friendly, outgoing, easy to smile, and both offered information about themselves and asked me about myself.

(The one exception was an otherwise pleasant woman who gently but firmly chastised me for asking what she did for a living. ) I was actually surprised that nobody asked me what I did for fun. ”) There were quite a few women who were currently living elsewhere but moving here soon, and some who had just gotten here.

I went speed-dating for the first time ever tonight.

Partly because it was on my bucket list of things to do, and partly because I thought it might be nice to meet people from outside my usual circle of social media friends. Being a nerd, of course, prior to going I tried researching it to see what to expect and couldn’t find many people’s experiences. (Which explains the blatantly obvious search-engine bait of this post’s headline.) I’d originally planned to do this last month — signed up, paid ($50), got all dressed up, and showed up — only to find that the speed-dating company (Fastlife) and the venue had a miscommunication and the place was locked.

I’m really bad with names, so I fear if I get matched up, my first words will be “Which one were you again?

” — which will likely kill any chance of a second date.

Turns out I needn’t have worried about my clothing, since most of the men were wearing the Vancouver “Hey, I’m a casual guy” outfit — worn-in jeans, a shirt, and a blazer.

“You’re an engineer, I’ll bet,” said the last of my ‘dates.’ “All the guys here tonight are engineers,” she yawned.

And when I say I only have two outfits, I don’t mean that I have two “looks” which are made up of a variety of clothing options — I have two outfits. I guarantee that when you next see me, I will be wearing one of two of these outfits.

(I do have other clothing, of course, but rarely wear it.

So tonight I basically spent the comp they gave me.

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