Standing in the almost full church parking lot brought back lots of memories. I looked up at the tall stone bell towers sitting to the north and south ends of the two-century old chapel and smiled. The sounds of the bell ringing on my wedding day were clear in my head. But that was a long time ago.
I had been at this church several times, for a number of different events. Weddings. Funerals. Dances. But never had I been there for what tonight had in store for me.
St Mike's had always been what many would call a progressive church. Lots of fund raising for the community and for themselves. Yes, they did the old standards of yard sales, bake sales, and bingos, but there was always a twist. For example, the bingo prizes were never your standard cash prize. No, to get the ladies out, they would have "Purse Bingo", where the prizes were Coach, Michael Kors, and the odd Louis Vuitton purse. On those nights, it was standing room only. And although the church didn't "sell" booze of any kind, you could enjoy a glass of wine, beer or a whiskey if you "made a small donation", and the "suggested" donation amounts were clearly written on the blackboard so there was never a mistake or discrepancy about how "little" you should, "donate".
But tonight, was different. Tonight, when we stepped inside, we would be meeting many liked minded people. People in the same situation as the rest of us. People who were single and in search of a significant other. Hoping to perhaps fine love during a speed date.
*****
Let me back things up a few steps.
My best friend of far too many years to remember, Bernie, thought it was time for us to stop being 'lonely boys' until the day we die.
He hounded me for weeks until I finally gave in and agreed to go to a Speed Dating meeting, at a church no less. Bernie proudly explained there would be refreshments and opportunities to meet and potentially hook-up with single women. I tried to tell my dear friend these women weren't there to get laid, they were there to find a life partner. But, in his opinion, it was the same thing.
"I don't know why you're worried Jack. All the ladies seem to love you."
"The ones who love me are sixty years old."
"See, you gotta start looking at it my way, the positive thing about the older ones is they're already getting their pension money. It's a perfect deal. She'll be your Sugar Mama."
"You're twisted, Bern. But I still love you."
I waited for a few seconds before I asked him anymore questions about the plans for Friday evening. I wanted to know why he had gone a couple times already, and still hadn't gotten a date, or even a phone number.
"It's simple. I'm being choosey. There's so many to pick from, I'm having a hard time narrowing it down to just a few." He could see that I wasn't buying what he was selling. "Well, that and the fact I haven't met a lady I wanted to get to know any better."
There it was. We were going to a Speed Dating night, where my friend, who has always had very low standards, says he can't find a date he likes.
Well, at least it was only $10 to attend, and $7 donation per drink.
*****
"Are you sure about this?"
"Yeah, buddy. If anything, you're overdressed."
I was wearing jeans, a button-down shirt and a blazer. I felt good and hoped I looked good.
Finding the registration table just inside the door, we filled out the required info and we each stuck our HELLO MY NAME IS... sticker over our hearts. We both donated enough for a couple of beers each and waited for the announcements.
Ladies would stay put. Men would move up in numbers. The tables were placed so it would be easy to move and were far enough apart and turned at angles to give you a tiny bit of privacy. As luck would have it, I started at table number seven.
A small-framed redhead sat waiting. Other than her scowl, she had a pretty face and a lean body.
"Hi, I'm Jack."
I held out my hand, but Dina, as her name tag said, looked at it like she was about to bite it off.
"Sorry, I haven't shaken a hand since two-thousand twenty. You might remember, it was the start of this whole little Covid fiasco. It's been well over three years."
"Oh, sorry. I guess I hadn't thought about it."
"Well, Jack," she said with a certain amount of distain in her voice. "Maybe you should have. It's people like you who cause the continual spreading of germs."
"I...yeah...sorry."
I could see this wouldn't be going anywhere, so, we both sat and waited. For the next five-minutes, Dina scowled at me from over the top of what would have normally been sexy schoolteacher glasses. With a disapproving look she shook her head and checked her fingernails as we waited for the timer to ding.
And when it finally did, I moved to my right as quickly as possible and sat at table number eight.
Thus far, my night was off to a great start.
"Don't mind her. She hates men."
A pretty enough woman was seated across the table from me. She held out her hand and simply said, "Evelyn."
"Jack."
"So, I've heard. First time joining our little group, Jack?"
"Yes. Is it obvious?"
"Slightly."
"How so?"
"Let's see. Quite handsome. Very well dressed. You have a nice smell. Not too overpowering, but enough to let me know you want me to smell it. And charming...so far."
"I'm sorry...can you." I looked back to table number seven and saw the guy who had replaced me was having just about as good of luck as I had. "So, why would someone come to a speed dating thing if they hated men?"
"Well, Jack. We all need someone to love. You never can tell. Those sitting across the table from you may have been forced here by the someone they love."
"But...I."
"Dina hates men because she makes bad life choices. She's not here to find a man. If you can't love yourself, it's hard to love someone else. But, she has other reasons to be here. You were the first to sit at her table tonight, so you won the privilege of receiving the worst of her wrath. Believe me, she'll be a different girl by the end of the evening."
"But...I."
"You what? Dina knows nothing would ever come from making a real date with you. You're probably more than ten years younger than her. You're a good-looking guy, and by the way you're dressed, you're not on welfare."
"No, but I just..."
"Look Jack, we're almost four minutes into our speed date and all we've talked about is you and Dina."
"I'm so sorry. Let me...I mean, what brings you here?"
Evelyn smiled and shook her head. She reached over and cupped my left hand between her incredibly soft hands and squeezed.
"I'm afraid it's too little, too late. And believe me, I wish we could have spent more time talking about us. Small word of advice to you Jack. Be yourself. Honesty and warmth sell. Pair those things with your other attributes and you will go places around here."
The buzzer sounded for a second time and all the guys once again stood.
"Evelyn, can I at least get your..."
Before I stepped to my right, Evelyn had turned away and dismissed me. She was now focusing on her next suitor. But for some reason, my eyes still stared at her. She was older, yet still very attractive to me. Well dressed. Ample bosom. Tanned skin. Hair with way too many highlights. Still...there was something about her. Something that made me feel like I was missing out on a golden opportunity.
*****
For four more stops I shared answers and asked questions with complete strangers. Some I knew immediately would never be a match for me or I for them, but for five minutes, we talked like there might be a remote chance.
The eighth seat I sat in had potential, but her name alone set me off. Anne was my ex-wife's name, and it brought back too many memories as we had parted on bad terms and were less than friends.
Anne and I had married after college. We had a good life. Doing all the things young couples did and it appeared as though we would one day ride off into the sunset as an old, retired couple, but things changed.
After the birth of our only child, Anne began to get migraines. Her headaches set off long bouts of depression and those bouts turned into fits of rages and long periods of anger. She was not a fun person to be around.
We sought out medical help and advice from the professionals. MRI's and CAT scans showed nothing. One doctor diagnosed her with post-partum syndrome. Others had different opinions, but they all agreed Anne needed to be medicated. An anti-depressant was prescribed, but after a few months, it was never again taken. And a year after she stopped taking all her meds, Anne moved out of our lives'. She had no problem leaving her husband of six years and four-year-old son behind. I didn't hate her for her illness. As selfish as it was, I hated her for what we had potentially lost.
"Hi Anne. I'm Jack, nice to meet you."
She smiled at me and shook my hand gently. She was an attractive woman. Probably in the same age group as I was. Say thirty to thirty-five. Anne wasn't wearing a ring, but she still fidgeted with the finger where one used to reside.
"How long have you been divorced Jack?"
"It's been a while. You?"
"Three months."
