The most common story they told was that they were from out of town.

“I’m new here,” these single men would say, “and my friends introduced me to this.”

Others would say that they’re just too busy to meet folks in traditional methods, similar to the claims in late-night infomercials.

Regardless of excuses, the men I met during my limited time speed-dating last night seemed fairly normal — much less douchier than anticipated.

It was a full turnout at 100 Dates in 100 Minutes last night, the giant speed-dating event put on by Rendezvous Club at Caprice nightclub.

And, despite the stigma attached to most blind-date type affairs, I was not entirely annoyed.

No. 23, according to my chicken-scratch notes, resembled Alex Rodriguez. No. 20 was attractive, despite my only recollection that he had two last names. No. 1 was born at the same hospital as I was in Ontario.

No. 24’s breath, however, was less than fresh.

No, the level of loathing was considerably lower than expected. Perhaps there is something to this speed-dating thing the youngins seem so fond of lately.

Or, perhaps, it was the three pitchers I had beforehand and the two drink tickets upon entry.

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