Speed dating sf uk
All silliness – apart from the Cheshire Cat grin I wear to hide my awkwardness – is left at the door. Ladies form an inner circle facing the men on the outside. The guy is kind and holds my hand — metaphorically speaking — through this confusing and new experience, and he laughs with me as I bumble my way through the task. And so I find myself embracing a 7ft tall man who feels as resistant to this exercise as I do. This time by a man about my height who tells me he’s sorry for all the hurt his brothers have caused me.It looks as if we’re about to kick off a round of country dancing (I wouldn’t have entirely minded; Morris Dancing is not considered a novelty in my native Dorset). For another exercise we simply talk — à la normal speed date — but the deafening volume of the room as excited words bounce off the walls makes it hard for me to hear the young Russian man standing in front of me. It feels like I’m being forced to static dance with my mum’s friend’s (much older) son at a wedding. ‘Thanks very much,’ I think, but I wish they were bloody capable of apologising for themselves.We should then place our hand on the man’s heart to bring the meeting to an end. What I’m acutely aware of is how used to or how comfortable the women in the room are with all of this.Guy encourages us to have fun with it and, even if we don’t want to chat more, to make out like we’re putting a bead in there ‘just to fuck with them’. The two I’m sandwiched between in this inner circle are very open and loving.In the centre, he explains, sits a ‘temple’ – a colourful cloth laid out on which we can place anything we like to bring us good luck and energy.I don’t know if I missed the memo or it just wasn’t given, but I haven’t come prepared.That is what Tantra is about and it forms the backbone of the philosophy around Tantric dating too.If you’re like me, the little you know about Tantra is informed by the much publicly-discussed sex life of Trudie and Sting, after Sting made a throwaway comment in 1990. And yet I remember it and can’t seem to erase it from my memory.
I make myself as small as I can, wedged between a pile of mats and a thick red velvet curtain that is inexplicably draped across the hallway as we wait to go in.The bold 50-something lady gives a frank ‘I want a lover’.As does the late 40-something man that she towers over next to her. Despite the palpable nerves in the room, everyone seems to give an honest and straight answer. Am I meant to keep repeating the same thing over and over, or keep imagining up other lovely things to say about this complete unknown before me? You can opt out of any of the exercises but I don’t want to be ‘that’ person.As others step forward and place crystals and items of jewellery, I look on bewildered. We start by doing a school-like energy experiment, led by Guy, before going around the room, introducing ourselves and saying what we want to get from the evening.The answers range from my ‘curiosity’, to one guy who was brave enough to admit he’s ‘here to find a partner’.