What actually happened was that I wished like hell I'd borrowed a hipflask. However, given the punishing number of stairs I had to negotiate to get into the venue, perhaps it was just as well I hadn't. Tottering along, I couldn't help wishing I'd been allowed to bring a friend along, or at least a small furry toy. This is the kind of thing that really is most fun when you're with a group of friends.

Once inside, I found, like most things in life, speed dating really wasn't as scary as I thought it'd be. Unfortunately I'd missed the shots of apple sours, which were hidden away in a corner of the room, but they're not such a great drink anyway. Instead I settled for a large vodka and hoped it'd see me through the night.

One woman confessed she was here because she'd seen speed dating on TV and had dragged a friend along for moral support. "And you?" she concluded.

"Don't tell anyone," I said in a conspiratorial whisper. She leaned forward eagerly — everyone loves a secret — "but I'm here to write about it."

We wished each other luck and smiled toothily, in the manner of sharks moving in for the kill, at our first dates of the evening.

It works like this:

Everyone gets one of those horrible sticky tags with their names on it and a number between one and 20. When the dating starts, the women sit at separate tables and the men circulate, spending the required three minutes with each. It's quite a rush because no sooner have you introduced yourself, scribbled down your date's name and said hello, it's time to move on.

Consequently, there's a fair bit of adrenalin flowing and people make a big effort to appear sociable and presentable. It's a lot like one of those parties where you don't know anyone but are determined to meet everyone.

I don't remember that much about my dates, as it's become a blur of names and unconnected faces, interspersed with the same answers to the same questions. I met a heck of a lot of people in IT, interspersed with a couple of golf coaches, and a sprinkling of lawyers, all of whom were very keen to tell me about their rapid ascent up the corporate ladder, but surprisingly, only one beancounter. Sorry, I meant, group financial director.

I do remember scanning faces for any serial axe murderer features, without being too sure about what a serial axe murderer would actually look like. I also kept an eye out for any boat-owning features, and met with some success in this area. Don't ask me who they belonged too; my hasty notes include comments such as "wildlife freak", "biker", "beefy guy", "Belgian cat person", "Gemini, hyper" and "80s music fan".

The morning after (aka the moment of truth)

I'd initally intended to tick everyone, just so I could see who'd ticked me back, but was forced to disqualify three (the golf coaches and the 80s music fan — you know who you are) on the grounds of sheer boredom. Another seven fell by the wayside because I really couldn't bring myself to have dinner with someone two decades my senior. Nothing personal; the pensioners were the nicest of the lot.

This left me with seven potentials, who at least belonged to the same, loosely-defined, generation as me.

I logged on to the website and ticked: Erich, Andrew, Alan, Raf, Steven, Chris, and Roger. Of these, only two ticked me. Not too bad for a non-sexy librarian! To the rest of you: yeah well, you weren't all that hot either, you know.

On the other hand, if even I can get a real date out of one of these events, speed dating must have something going for it.

I'm going to end off by stealing a quote from 'Sex and the City's' Miranda: "Does anyone know a nice potplant I can have dinner with on Saturday night?" All I ask for is a well-behaved vegetable!

If you want to give it a whirl, there are a couple of companies out there. iafrica.com's reporter attended an event hosted by Speed Dater. Events are held across the country; find out more at www.speeddater.co.uk

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