Sign of the Times

I stumbled quite unsuspecting upon the den of madness. I arrived, after my manicure and pedicure, to meet friends for a drink at Blondie’s. Upon arrival, I was met by greeters sporting nametags and whistles “Hurry Date – 25 Dates in One Evening.” I showed the bouncer my i.d. and hesitantly asked, “I’m not with the program, can I still get a drink?” He smiled and said, “Thanks, Lori, come on in.”

Thankfully, right away I spotted my friends, sans nametags. I observed the scene around me. Every three minutes Jordan blew her whistle loudly, toot, toot, toot! The men moved counterclockwise one seat; the women remained where they were. With glazed looks each couple repeated the same conversation they had previously repeated five, six, seven, eight times.

I watched with wonder. How could anyone possibly purport to know, and like, someone within three minutes? Collin summed it up nicely, “This is so Henry Ford’s approach to dating.” Get them in, move them out.

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