“Whenever I want a really nice meal, I start dating again.”

- Susan Healy

Do you know how you walk into the New Shanghai Buffet and you look to the left and see all the different menu items on display for your eating pleasure? Sure, there's pepper chicken, hot and sour soup, and those dumplings; you know, the stuff you actually went there to enjoy? Then there are items that you're not at all sure of what it is. I mean, you read the card at the top and it might read spicy ribs, but looks more like the victim of a tragic farming accident.

Well that about sums up my latest adventure. Two words ... speed dating.

Now I'm all about efficiency but this takes it to another level. For those of you who haven't tried this decathlon of romance it goes like this.

You go to a restaurant and they have tables set out and at each one is a single woman. Along the wall are a bunch of single guys. Sort of like those middle school dances only without the music but a lot more awkward two-stepping.

The guys all get numbers and, like the shotgun start of a golf tournament, we're all told to sit down at different tables. We are told we will have six minutes for each date. We'll get a two minute break and then another date until about two hours have passed by.

If you're doing the math in your head, it would go like this. No dates for a month, and at the end of tonight? Twelve dates. Nothing like making up for lost time. The bells rings, and I'm off.

Table one seemed rather nice. She had a soft voice and made good eye contact but there was only one slight problem. Picture in your mind the fact that I am 5 feet 8 inches tall and when she stood she must have been a good 6 foot 6 inches. I admire a woman I can look up to, but this was a totally different matter altogether.

Tables two and three caught me off guard because they were twin sisters. It was sort of like having dating deja vu.

Table seven was downright scary. Tattoos up and down her arms and earrings where her ears weren't. Now I know I can be a little picky at times, but seriously, what makes someone decide to punch metal rings into their face and then go outside is beyond me.

Eight, nine, and 10, and 11 I got lucky (no, not like that.)

They were all nice women, and we all seemed to be enjoying ourselves meeting people. But I looked forward to taking a break. I felt winded.

This isn't as easy as I had thought it would be. I felt as though I should have done some cardio training to build the stamina of 12 dates in one night. A waitress brought me some water to revive me for my last round.

I had to roll my eyes at table 12 when she said she read palms and proceeded to tell me my fortune.

Shockingly enough, she said I was going to meet new people.

I smiled.

Auburn native Bradley Molloy's column appears here, each

Sunday, in The Citizen.

He can be reached at lovonian@hotmail.com