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# Dating a dozen girls in one night is costly
- URL: https://www.smdp.com/dating-a-dozen-girls-in-one-night-is-costly/
- Published: 2007-02-14T16:00:00.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-24T00:03:42.000Z
- Author: Kevin Herrera
- Tags: local, Main St, #archive-import

women for five minutes at a time. At the end of the night, if you’ve found a connection, you either exchange numbers or go online and chat. On one site, www.hurrydate.com, you can create a profile, post pictures and a little blurb about yourself, even send people virtual drinks to break the proverbial ice.

In search of my next ex, or at least a date for Valentine’s Day, I gave the speed dating thing a whirl. What I ended up with was a phone number in my pocket and a little more confidence in my game. But still, at the end of the night, I found myself asking whether it was all worth the price of admission? Not really.

My high-octane, somewhat surreal, dating experience was staged at Main Street’s Barcopa, a pleasant, but incredibly tiny back-alley type lounge with a friendly bartender, $4 Newcastles and plenty of candles to set the mood.

There I met my host, a delightful woman who herself had given up on dating to focus on her new dog — not very encouraging, considering she was running the show. She assigned me the number 26, and that’s how I was subsequently known — Kevin, No. 26.

Around the bar were “stations,” with a participating woman seated at each. The men were instructed to rotate counterclockwise every five minutes, with each date ending with the decidedly unromantic shrill of a whistle, as if we were running lay-up drills for the high school basketball team. After each mini-date, we were told to write down the person’s name (or number) and circle a “Y” or “N” — signifying if we liked the person or not.

Prior to kickoff, we were encouraged to drink up — “A dollar off beers and wine,” the hostess kept reminding daters. I ordered a beer and sat at the bar. There, I met two 20-somethings, Joe and Jerry. It was their first time participating in speed dating, so we were all in the same boat — a little nervous, a little excited and a little hopeful, but with more than a hint of skepticism. The two were engineers, so I knew I had them beat in the personality department. I was feeling good about my chances.

A short time later, some of the ladies began to trickle in and I immediately began my critiques. I had heard some horror stories about the types of women who sign up for speed dating, everything from “Fatal Attraction” types (sexy, but crazy) to the homely school teacher (sweet, but dull).

The diverse selection surprised me. I sat up on my stool.

Of the dozen women who strolled into Barcopa, several were attractive, young and engaging. There were a few duds, of course. Knitting isn’t my idea of a fun Saturday night. Some were seeking a serious companionship, other girls just wanted to have fun. There were teachers, secretaries, a gymnastics instructor, event planner and a dental assistant; those with college degrees and those without.

Wary of the uncomfortable pregnant pause, I’d prepared a set of questions to ask them: “Do you consider yourself to be a city girl or mountain girl?” “Are you looking to get married or just kick it?” “What did you do last weekend?”

Since it was Super Bowl weekend, I wanted to see who even remotely liked sports, me being a fanatic.

Looking back, it was a good thing I had my questions because what I discovered (and sort of knew going in) is that women would much rather talk about themselves. At nearly every “station,” the women seemed more content to have me ask them questions than try and gauge my interests. Only a few — actually, just one — asked me a question that wasn’t based off of something I had asked, or was the standard “What do you do?”“Where do you live?” or “What brought you to speed dating?”

Bummer, dudes. But in the interest of journalism, as well as my own libido, I pressed on. That’s when I met Amanda, an attractive blonde with Rene Russo locks and a mouth that ran a mile a minute — my type of gal. We seemed to hit it off — I say “seemed to” because five minutes is really not enough time to determine if you vibe with someone. She asked me if I wanted to get together again. I said yes, of course, and she gave me her number, providing me with a jolt of confidence and a smile.

When all was said and done, in five-minute power flirts, I took off, not wanting to spoil a good thing, driving home somewhat content, but in many ways frustrated with the dating scene. There I was paying to meet women, and out of 10, there seemed to be just one that I could see myself with at a roller derby match sipping tall can Tecates with lime.

A number of the ladies lived in the dreaded Valley, or even worse, the conservative OC. Honestly, I just don’t see myself driving 30 minutes to an hour (without traffic) for a little lovin’ — not gonna happen.

For $37, I felt like I got robbed. I could have used that money, went out to another bar and bought drinks for a few dames. Granted, my chances of getting them to sit and talk to me for five minutes would have been a lot slimmer, but so would have been the women I would have talked too — ouch. (Sorry, but true.) In the end, I had fun and met some nice people, but there definitely was no Chuck Woolery “Love Connection.” The experience reinforced what I already knew, it is difficult dating in Santa Monica, expensive and I probably won’t find the love of my life in a bar (Damn, why does my mother always have to be right?) For the lonely hearts out there, speed dating is an option and can provide a big boost to those who lack the confidence to do a cold call on the ladies, but at least then you are in control... and if you feel like you have something good going, it won’t be interrupted by a whistle.

*Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on February 14, 2007.* [Read the original PDF.](https://s3.us-east-1.amazonaws.com/smdp%5Fbackissues/021407.pdf?ref=smdp.com)