Speed Dating by Natalie Standiford

Author:Natalie Standiford [STANDIFORD, NATALIE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780316089012
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2009-10-31T04:00:00+00:00

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Mood Swing

Current Mood: Don’t ask

The third Speed Dating party was held at Vineland last Saturday, and scored another big success. Though this time, the crowd that signed up was a little different from before. The first two groups of Speed Daters were, for the most part, a fairly conventional crew. This time about half the participants were hardcore Goths, punks, or otherwise misfits. Interesting. But it worked.

One guy a Draper student who shall remain nameless (because I can’t remember what his name was), showed up sporting a David Bowie Spiders from Mars look, complete with dyed-blond hair, space-blue spandex over a cadaverous frame, and a lightning bolt painted over one eye on his chalky face. At the first Speed Dating party he might have been a reject, but this time he had the Goth chicks swooning. A certain Rosewood Poetess was especially smitten, though she didn’t want to admit it. When her six minutes were up and she faced the prospect of losing David Bowie to a girl with a safety pin in her cheek, and the next boy in line was a yucky freshman wearing a cape, she decided to stop playing by the rules. She dug in and refused to let David Bowie go on to the next girl. “He’s mine for the rest of the party,” she declared. “You in the cape—go around me.”

Safety Pin Girl refused to go along with this, and who can blame her? David Bowie was definitely the catch of this crowd, and Cape Boy the dud. True to her punk ethics, Safety Pin Girl took a swing at the Poetess, narrowly missing the ruby stud in her nose. The Poetess dropped all pretense of literary diffidence and slapped Safety in the face. Safety jumped to her feet, knocking her chair over, and dove on top of the poor Poetess, who didn’t have as much practice brawling as your typical punk girl gets on an average weekend night. Holly, Mads, and I had to break up the fight before it got bloody, which doesn’t take long when you’re dealing with the heavily pierced. A few of the boys sprang to our aid. Not Bowie, though, perhaps he was afraid of smudging his lightning bolt. Safety and the Poetess were ejected, and the party proceeded. I later learned that the Poetess managed a glimpse of Bowie’s e-mail address and has been in touch with him. No news of an actual date yet. Maybe he’s too busy making contact with his home planet.

I suggest that from now own we should hold Speed Dating parties for different segments of the high school population. What’s next—jocks and jockettes? Sk8ter Boyz and the chicks who love them? Hip-hop princes and princesses? The possibilities are endless.

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