I should have known it wouldn't have taken long before the evening turned into a binge of some sort...

This was the second installment of speed dating at Catch 22. The first being just too scary a prospect to participate in. My friend had backed out and the idea of turning up to a speed date alone was just too cringeworthy.

I managed this time, however, to drag a friend along (thank you fwend). She should actually have been in either hospital or bed but I had managed to twist her arm just enough to have her stagger, clutching her thyroid to tonights loser lounge.

For the duration of the event I was expected to sit in a dingy corner of the bar behind a table. I felt like Golem. I already had images of my 'next' dates peering into the darkness and conveniently deciding to go for a toilet break/buying a drink/leaving/screaming/laughing in horror.

Eventually our hostess instructed those standing to find their seats and for us to work our magic. For what felt like a heart squeezing eternity I was sat on my own in the corner alone until a young girl was specifically instructed to sit with me.

The five minutes I had on my first date were infinitly not enough. I was thrown in the deep end with being sat opposite the most gorgeous girl I'd ever specifically had a date with. I was fighting to keep my composure. I think I kept drifting towards 'mezmerised'.

We talked about green pancakes and squats in toilets, I realised only afterwards that I already knew of her (god bless Facebook).

I think we were still having our conversation after the 5 minute 'mark' but alas, I had to move on.

My next date I think I insulted by trying to guess her nationality (note to self, just don't). I proposed Swedish. She was Finnish. Awkward silence.

As the dates came and went things got a bit more random with girls either getting lost or possibly even leaving. So there were plenty of opportunities for me to feel sorry for myself.

I think the last date I had was with a girl who looked like she was on K. In fact, she WAS on K. Part way thru the conversation she decided to sit next to me and suddenly she slumped into the feotal position. I totally resented this.

I looked up at other people watching us and tried to give the impression of "don't worry, it's not me, it's her".

OK, time for a drink. I happened to see the blond girl at the bar and hoped that this would be a good opportunity to test the magic with some follow-up.

My usual tactic of appearing approachable (that's about as proactive as my 'game' gets) didn't really work. Damn, now I've got my drink. Can't linger around. Must bite the bullet... Argh, no... Exit.

I didn't stay for the 'results' at the end.

Sulk sulk sulk.