speed dating

Published: Irish Times, February 13 2010

You can’t hurry love?

THE LIGHTING IS soft. That’s the first thing you notice when you arrive downstairs at the Turk’s Head pub in Dublin city centre. If it were any softer, you might pull up a chair by one of those old flower pots and ask what she looks for in a relationship. The organisers of tonight’s speed dating event asked participants to assemble at 7.45pm sharp. I arrive at 7.49pm, so flustered I almost sign up for salsa dancing lessons by accident. But nothing actually happens until almost 9pm.

The ladies, by and large, have shown up in pairs. They sit awkwardly at the bar, fixing their hair and stealing furtive glances at the latest arrivals. The guys have almost all come alone. But as with any group of men, thrown together in any circumstances, anywhere in the world, we pick up the conversation almost without missing a beat. Robbie Keane to Celtic, huh? How’ll that pan out? Risky move on Spurs’ part. He scores goals, the boy scores goals… Read the rest of this article here.

You can’t hurry love?

THE LIGHTING IS soft. That’s the first thing you notice when you arrive downstairs at the Turk’s Head pub in Dublin city centre. If it were any softer, you might pull up a chair by one of those old flower pots and ask what she looks for in a relationship. The organisers of tonight’s speed dating event asked participants to assemble at 7.45pm sharp. I arrive at 7.49pm, so flustered I almost sign up for salsa dancing lessons by accident. But nothing actually happens until almost 9pm.

The ladies, by and large, have shown up in pairs. They sit awkwardly at the bar, fixing their hair and stealing furtive glances at the latest arrivals. The guys have almost all come alone. But as with any group of men, thrown together in any circumstances, anywhere in the world, we pick up the conversation almost without missing a beat. Robbie Keane to Celtic, huh? How’ll that pan out? Risky move on Spurs’ part. He scores goals, the boy scores goals… Read the rest of this article here.

Go Speed Dater, Go

Went speed dating the other night. Came home, sat up for 12 hours straight and wrote a 1,500 word feature on it for Valentine’s Day issue of Irish Times magazine. Then slept pretty much 24 hours. Did all of this, incidentally, while in the throes of the most severe vomiting and going-to-the-bathroom-more-frequently-than-I-would-wish bug I have ever endured. Read the rest of this entry »

Published: Irish Times, February 13 2010

You can’t hurry love?

THE LIGHTING IS soft. That’s the first thing you notice when you arrive downstairs at the Turk’s Head pub in Dublin city centre. If it were any softer, you might pull up a chair by one of those old flower pots and ask it what it’s looking for in a potential boyfriend. The organisers of tonight’s speed dating event asked participants to assemble at 7.45pm sharp. I arrive at 7.49pm, so flustered I almost sign up for salsa dancing lessons by accident. But nothing actually happens until almost 9pm.

The ladies, by and large, have shown up in pairs. They sit awkwardly at the bar, fixing their hair and stealing furtive glances at the latest arrivals. The guys have almost all come alone. But as with any group of men, thrown together in any circumstances, anywhere in the world, we pick up the conversation almost without missing a beat. Robbie Keane to Celtic, huh? How’ll that pan out? Risky move on Spurs’ part. He scores goals, the boy scores goals. Read the rest of this entry »

Published: Evening Herald, April 2009

JOHN DOYLE’S

It’s Thursday night in Doyles and the hits just keep on coming: Westlife. Kylie. 2 Unlimited. Peter Andre’s Mysterious Girl segueing directly into the Saw Doctors N17. This is Phibsboro Uncovered. Yip, it doesn’t get much wilder than this. Read the rest of this entry »