There are some men who tread their own path, who carve a way through life unique from all those around them. To you sirs, wherever you are, I salute you. I have had the privilege of meeting many of you because you are the ones who attend Speed Dating events, often alone because you are a pioneer, a trend-setter, a man amongst boys.
Then there is the rest. The friends of the pioneer who mock his forward thinking. They cast doubt on innovation, on new thinking, on courage and bravery because they are afraid. Years ago these people would mocked anyone considered the planet Earth could have been anything but flat.
It is to you, fearful ones, for whom this missive is intended. While you send the hero out into the world of speed dating, your laughter wringing in his ears, it is upon you that the last laugh will fall.
This is how it works:
It's 7:30. You're 3 beers in with some other friends in cowardice, laughingly guessing at the fate that has befallen your erstwhile companion. As the evening progresses you will contemplate the relative merits of various females in your proximity. "I don't need to speed date" you will tell yourself as you further line your stomach with liquid courage.
It's 8:30. Is that a woman? You're not sure. Are there 3 or six of them? Another beer will sort you out. You're unstoppable.
Meanwhile, your 'laughable' companion has discussed sex, politics, Ugg boots and the relative merits of Timmy Mallett with 15 stunning women. He has already swapped numbers with 2 of them. And it's only half time. Your only engagement with the more intelligent gender has been a slurring offer to buy a drink and the witty remark that she looks like a slim version of Vanessa Feltz. She politely declines by laughing in your face. But you're on fire. You return to your mates with another pint.
It's now 9:30. You've actually managed to engage in conversation with someone who appears rather attractive if you close one eye. She's even laughing at your impression of Sean Connery. It's been 10 mins! Who needs Speed Dating? Pah!
Your friend has met another 10 women and is now at the bar chatting to 3 having exchanged 2 more numbers and he still has tomorrows online matching results to come.
You are flying! She even laughed at your sick Jimmy Savile joke. She turns to you. Look you in your one sober eye and says: "Thanks for keeping me company. My boyfriend's here now. You gay guys are so much fun." And walks away.
It's midnight. Where do we stand?
Your adventurous friend is in a club with 12 others from the Speed Date night with no intention of leaving anytime soon.
You are sprawled, half dressed and alone watching Babestation swirling in front of you. You half consider a drunken hand shandy while smelling of kebabs before deciding a trip to the fridge for another beer is in order. You wake upon the kitchen floor.
Gentleman, I tell you now, this story is true. True for so many men each week.
So to you sir - YES YOU - I ask, which are you? The pioneer warrior? Or the drunken has-been?
The choice is now yours.