But I can blame her for coming across as a bit of a money-grabbing, self-centred Princess…The only time she made prolonged eye contact was when she asked about my salary!

mauritian speed dating-5

to one of my first conversations with French-speaking Josh about dating, he had made a very good point: “You’re looking for a Chinese girl? I say reluctant not because he’s not Chinese (he is), not because he’s not single (he is), not because he lacks confidence with women (he does just fine), but because Ricky most definitely prefers English girls!

How about getting off the internet and actually getting yourself some Chinese friends, you bellend! It’s for another story, but he seems to actively avoid BBC Girls… I’m sure if you’re reading this, you know exactly what Speed Dating is, but just in case...

I found out a few days later when results came through, that she’d actually ticked Y(es) for me. Meet Fong, she looked Chinese but whenever she spoke English, the bizarre accent meant words never seemed to come out the way I expected. I now know that Mauritian-Hakka is basically nothing like my brand of Hakka; it was pretty much a completely different dialect.

And then even more bizarrely I got an email later that day along the lines of: “Hey there, Banana. So I thought that by switching to my broken-Hakka, maybe I could dazzle her with some of my skillz… Let’s just say that Fong was friendly but quite definitely unimpressed by my efforts, and I beat a hasty retreat with tail between legs. Clearly, I hadn’t met her, since she was next in line.

I can’t understand somebody coming to a dating event only to be actively hostile to people… He had curly hair, was easily a good 6’4, and strode about the place with the confidence of someone who fitted right in.

I actually came out of that more than a little unnerved. At this point I’d also take the opportunity to take a look at my fellow competitors… This in itself was an odd sight, however the most ridiculous thing about it all was told to me later by Lily and another girl: our Indian friend had gone making some pretty mad claims about his line of work. There is the very slight possibility that he wasn’t bullshitting everyone, but it seems highly unlikely (baby Pandas in Britain usually make the news, right? And thus, I can only stand and admire that Indian man with the big balls…

In a recent conversation with a friend, she suggested that I also look into speed dating… Except I had to guiltily admit that I had already been to a couple of them… “Well in that case, maybe you should write about that too”, she added.

So in order do that, let us rewind to quite a while back… A quick search on Google confirmed such a thing existed in London… And so when the time came, I dragged my friend, reluctant Ricky, along for the ride.

And generally reprimanding me for something or other (“You're too picky / too mean about that girl / too vain / too busy for dating / you haven't mentioned me in your blog etc etc etc”).

Every once in a while you come across somebody who’s so damn hot, you kinda glance twice to make sure she isn’t some kind of photoshop creation, and then stare much longer than you should.

Try and imagine the below exchange in as blunt and abrupt a tone as possible!