Speed Dating 4: Medical School Edition

So, my medical school put on a speed-dating event last Thursday. As I had gone a long time without diving into a huge pile of loneliness, I gave it a shot.

Pictured above: For this particular lonely event, we were all given numbers to rank our relative attractiveness. I was number 45. There was no number 46.

What was it like speed-dating with medical school classmates? Well, my unrelenting optimism apparently comes thrashing out when confined in a small space with a girl, which does not always go down well with a stress-out medical student. So here are some phrases I learned I must avoid:

"Living in Chicago is easy!"*

"Medical school is easy!"*

"Second year is easy!"*

"Studying is easy!"*

"You look easy!"**

*actually said by me
**implied by me

Pictured above: I began the evening by myself at dating-station "L." There weren't enough ladies at the event, so I started with a bye match. I ate a Butterfinger candy bar alone for five minutes and now imagine this scene every time someone asks me, "How's dating going?"

Unfortunately, the ladies of medical school were all quite lovely (and all capable of finding this blog), so they shall not be the source of any jest. I am not aware of my results yet, but here's hoping that I tricked at least one of them into accidentally confusing my number with the one of the handsome man that went after me.

You know what? I deserve some kind of reward for going to so many speed-dating events. Something very manly, but also strangely depressing.

Pictured above: A set of men's colognes designed to look like a cigar box? That works.