My first speed dating experience was fun; I really enjoyed it, but not only to find a date, but also to socialise. I met great friends and I am still in touch with them today. I've done it a few times times and left with mixed reviews every time. I have been to one in the city where you'd have thought you'd find like-minded ambitious men but I bumped into an ugly bunch of wannabes.

I went to a town near Croydon; I didn't realise it was that far until the trip took longer than I thought and stumbled upon a group of scapegrace dudes. I was horrified, especially from the latter, when Bianca came with me and couldn't stop complaining all through our trip back and is still talking about that night today.

South Ken, Sunday afternoon on a cold but Sunny autumn day, Camellia and I were in my living room surrounded by decoupages of wedding dresses from all sort of brides' magazines. Camellia had breakfast at mine and we were still searching for the perfect wedding dress at 4 pm. When we lacked magazines to look at, I was very glad to offer a tea break. But when Camellia proposed to go on Pinterest; I was horrified!

“As far as I am concerned, I am done,” I said tiredly.

“Please! Pinterest and we are done. We will make a few screenshots and print them.”

“From where? I am running out of ink,” I lied.

“Oh, damn it! I'll do this at home... I'll spare you this,” chuckled Camellia.

“I can't believe you are getting married. I missed you in all these single events. With whom am I going to chat up handsome and intelligent guys, now?”

“Valérie, you are ready now. You don’t need to go out and chat men up. And you’re so picky!”

“Moi? Picky? Are you kidding, Cam? You would not have borne a third of the dates I have been to, you would have left straight away, especially the guy who let the door hit my head, or the other one losing his denture in front of me. Besides, that's why you signed up to Infinite to avoid all this shit.”

“And you should do the same. Have a matchmaker looking for your dream man, Val. Stop this mess! Sometimes I feel like you're having fun going to these horrible dates. Are you writing a book or something? If not you should… Go to Stephanie. She's your friend now; I am sure she will make a deal to you.”

“I feel that I have not tried everything and it hasn’t been long since I’ve felt ready. I can afford to take more time.”

“Listen, you know before I signed up at Infinite, I was part of this Affinity Club; they organise events for singles. I've never been, but you should call Stanley. He is the organiser, and he worked in conjunction with a few matchmaking agencies so you might find eligible men. Go with your new friend Sally. I'm sure you'll have fun.”

I’d had my fair lot of dodgy events. I took Stanley's number, but I couldn't care less.

The following Friday, Bianca stood me up for a fling she’d dreamt of fucking for at least three years. So, I decided to look up at what I could do that night. I stumbled across Stanley's business card from Affinity Singles and contacted him to know if they were up to something that night.

I was lucky. They had a meet up in a club called Quaglino’s in Mayfair. I had never been there, so I was even more excited. I got myself pampered and went very confident to Quaglino’s Mayfair.

I arrived at Quaglino’s, which is a few moments away from the Ritz. Inside, two charming hostesses greeted me. I asked for Stanley's table. One of the hostesses took my coat and escorted me downstairs.

On my way down, I realised how big and sumptuous the Quaglino’s was. I felt like I was in one of Gatsby's parties. It was opulent, magnificent, and yet chic. Nothing overdone.

The men looked young, successful, confident, and I liked the atmosphere. I knew I was about to have a great night. The restaurant host sat me on a pouffe alone and asked hesitantly, "Are you sure you're here for Stanley?" His tone really worried me; he sounded like I’d asked for Mr. Elephant Man. I confirmed my request. The host left, which made the whole situation awkward when he came back and introduced me to Stanley.

When I’d spoken over the phone with Stanley that afternoon, I’d really thought he was a younger man, and for some reason, I thought he was really good looking, which contributed to me making an effort to come. But I couldn't have been more wrong. I had in front of me the cubic crushed version of Gargamel. I forced a grin, Stanley took my arm, and we walked towards his table.

At his table, ugly old men salivated at my arrival surely happy to see fresh meat at their disposal. I was thinking of a way to get away from this shit. It was so wrong! Still standing up, Stanley introduced me to his Geriatric Club, four gentlemen looking over 100 year-old, two very weather-beaten face women, and to my relief and big surprise, a woman of my age with a diving cleavage unveiling two football balls. Gross... She looked like a prostitute. Despite her vulgarity, I decided that she was going to be my evening's friend. I decided to sit next to her, but Stanley decided to place me between Mamie Nova and Santa Claus.

Mamie Nova at my sight gave me her back without concession, clearly showing her instant dislike for me, and obviously she ignored me all through the night. However, Santa Claus was delighted to have me at his side and started chatting me up, asking a variety of questions about my life. At least it allowed me to launch my very own evening well and laugh somehow.

However, I cut our conversation short when after a few compliments, he invited me to his hotel. I declined kindly with a puking taste in my mouth. He put his card in front of me, stating, "If you change your mind one of these days." This was disgusting; I could be his grandchild. I, then, introduced him to my back and stopped conversing with him.

To my greatest despair, I had no one to speak with. I could have left, but when I thought of the £100 paid, I was more than willing to drink my third free drink before running away.

My second glass started, I thought that I was silly not at least to talk to them and/or network, so I stood up and joined the conversation of the two other men sitting opposite to me.

Wrong move! I discovered that men could talk about hip problems, hearing aids, and dentures… I was dying alive in an excellent restaurant full of handsome men. Why was I still at their table?

I drank my wine like one drink a shot of vodka and decided to leave when Big Football Balls came to me.

“Your first?”

“Yep.”

“This is the last time I come to one of Stanley's evenings." She claimed.

“Oh god! You think the same! I figured I was the only normal girl here. I can't believe that man just offered me to join him at his hotel.”

“Don't worry. He's cool. He'll probably spin a few notes,” she said in the coolest way possible.

“Notes????? Money?” I said, trying to sound and look as expressionless as possible.

“Yes, something around £ 500... What do you think? We are all here to date men full of cash... This dress cost me £ 800, my bag £ 5000 and this ring £13000... How do you think I got all these? And my new boobs! All from rich men.”

I thought my evening could not be worse than that. I decided to leave. I was embarrassed even to be seen with these kinds of people.

I was going very discreetly toward the exit when Stanley took my arm and mumbled, "Do not worry, next time, I'll bring men of your age, with as successful careers as yours, very handsome, and searching for a meaningful relationship. They will be delighted to see you, my darling. And now, I know what you look like... You're a bombshell, and we will get you married quickly.”

I made the fakest smile ever made in my life and I made a hypocritical kiss to Stanley. I was going home.

It seemed like the night was mega busy; there was neither taxi nor Uber to be seen or called. Even Minicabster and Addison Lee were busy. In agony, I started to walk toward Green Park station hoping to get a cab or worse, get a bus home.

My bus was coming in 28 minutes, which was a long wait in that cold autumn night. I saw a few taxis passing by, but they were all busy. I started being desperate by the thought of getting into the tube station, which I hadn't used for ages, when a gentleman interrupted my chain of not-so-nice thoughts.

“Bad evening?”

“Excuse me?”

“You look upset; seems like you had a tough day.”

“Funny, I shall say. Well, I've been invited to a dating event which turned out to be a Geriatric club where I had to chat with Santa Claus, befriend with Cruella, have fun with Mother Christmas, or chat electrical hips with a porn star turned prostitute.”

“Mamie Nova?”

“Yes, the yoghurt? Granny Nova?”

“You’re funny.”

“And cynical…”

“I like it.”

“I’m Valérie.”

So, meet Shane, 37, lawyer, blond, and charming. Dressed like an artist, T-shirt and South Pole sweatshirt; we were laughing when after a 35-minute wait I made him miss his bus. I didn't even see mine passing by. Now, we had no choice but to go for a drink somewhere close.

After one drink, we decided to have a bottle of wine and sat at the Blue Post on Bennet Street. The Blue Post was just a local pub like many in Mayfair. Then, we spent three hours chatting about everything and nothing. We laughed, sang, debated. It was weird to have so many interests in common with a random guy. Plus, I was right. Shane was also an artist. He loved painting, writing poems in his lost hours. I love creative men, and of course, I fancied him right away. Shane and I talked about art, music, real estate, and history. The evening passed at the speed of light. Finally, I did not regret going out at Stanley’s. In fact, I had forgotten the first part of the evening.

1 am, I was home, speed texting to Shane.

Date No.1

Shane and I planned to have dinner the following Thursday and he decided he would pick a restaurant and impress me. Well, I couldn't wait to see him again to have our official date 1.

I liked Shane; he was funny, he liked my humour, and never lacked saying something. Our discussions were flowing and we got on well.

But Thursday afternoon, Shane left a voicemail advising that he might not be able to make it that night because one of his best friends made a surprise trip to London from NYC. Well, I was disappointed, but texted back, < No problem. We'll catch up later this week. Have a very good time! >

A few minutes later, “I like you enormously. I don't think I can wait for more to see you. Join us at Masons Arms around 7 pm. I will have a couple with him and we'll have dinner. Can’t wait to learn more of you.”

I really felt honoured Shane invited me to join and see one of his best friends. I accepted the invite and couldn’t wait to see his American friend. I arrived at The Masons at 7 pm. Shane introduced me to James. James is a childhood friend of Shane. He's amusing, smart, and he's newly engaged. He came to London to tell Shane about the wedding and he officially invited both of us to the marriage held the following summer. James also said to Shane, "Valérie is the woman to marry, Shane. Don't ruin this, she's amazing!" He left us in these terms and we headed toward the Shepherds Market to an unknown destination.

Well, in fact, Shane booked at Le Boudin Blanc, a French restaurant where the menu was too good to pick; I wanted to eat everything: snail, oyster, boudin… Very nice Parisian bistro for a romantic candlelit date. Well done, Shane! I believed I could easily fall for that guy.

We had a very deep conversation. We spoke about our concept of a couple, creating a powerful couple, a team where we could work towards the same goals and be amazing together. I didn't think I’d had a date where I had such meaningful conversation about relationships and dates that early. I really appreciated that he emphasised on his will to form a proper couple and the need to maintain the flame in the relationship, whatever happens.

This man intrigued me more and more. This wasn't the kind of intrigue I had for Adrian, Paul, or others. It was deeper; I really wanted to know what scared him, what made him laugh, what made him shiver. I wanted to know him at a deeper level.

I really liked the way Shane walked, and talked, the words he used, his manners, and his incredible and welcoming smile. I really enjoyed that date; again it was hard to leave each other.

But this time, when my cab arrived, Shane kissed me. My heart wasn't pounding. I still had flashes of Taylor's kisses, and I was still comparing him to others. It was very hard because since I met Taylor, nobody had kissed me and sexed me up as amazingly as he did. I knew I had to move on and I knew I would, either with some time or with someone else.

Post-date No.1

One afternoon, after Camellia had me trying a few maids of honour dresses, in a few shops around town, we went for an afternoon tea at Sketch. We started eating and enjoying our food, when I recognised a woman from my first-speed dating group. We smiled at each other and she winked “got a hot date”.

Then, Shane arrived and joined her at her table. I must say I was upset that he was meeting her despite our fantastic dates.

Camellia was steaming rage on my behalf and decided we should just leave. She asked for the bill. When the waiter arrived, knowing us, he asked if something was wrong that we had to go that abruptly. I tried to explain discreetly, but Shane heard my voice and looked at our table.

Camellia looked at him like he’d just killed her fiancé. Shane awkwardly hailed me to join their table and seemed very uncomfortable when he tried to voice why he was here. Indeed, when I spoke to him earlier, he’d said that he was busy working outside London. A lie! I hate lies but forced a smile. And then, Shane and I, were both looking awkwardly at the Speed Dating Girl. I decided to break the silence. "Sophie. Nice to see you again, enjoy your hot date!" I winked at her.

And, I just left without hearing Shane’s excuses, he blatantly started to voice in front of Sophie. Needless to say, I didn't want to see him again. I was not willing to play any game or multi-date anymore. I was being myself and dating à la French in London. What a Shane, Shane didn’t get this! Next!