Ding-ding-ding! SpeedDating puts Jewish singles together; then the rest is up to them

So a Capitol Hill coffeehouse was buzz, buzz, buzzing the other night, full of young professionals, looking for love or at least some new people to hang with, in a speedy, speedy, speedy way.

Thirty-three men and women, ages 30 to 40. They were the first brave souls in Seattle to take part in SpeedDating, where single Jewish participants gather and "date" seven people for seven minutes each in round-robin fashion.

Can't hurry love? Ha.

Before the Wednesday event at Starbucks even started, they were buzzing - not on caffeine, but in anticipation. "I was incredibly tentative about coming," admitted Dana Korey, 34, an account executive from Kirkland. "I circled the building first."

They got name tags - first names only, with numbers. The women sat at tables corresponding to their number. The guys found seats opposite them.

Ding-ding-ding!

Techiya Levine, who with her husband, Rabbi Chaim Levine, is organizing SpeedDating in Seattle, rang a silver bell. She explained the ground rules: A man and a woman would be paired at each table. They would talk for seven minutes. They couldn't ask about occupations. They couldn't ask for each other's phone numbers or for a date flat out. They would have to write down on a card whom they'd like to see again.

If both the man and the woman agreed to meet again, Techiya would give the man the woman's phone number, and tell the woman that the guy would be calling.

"Guys, if you don't call in four days, you won't be doing SpeedDating in the future," Techiya warned.

Laughter and applause from the women.

Then she said the magic words: "Get ready! Get set! Date!"

The room buzzed with conversation: "Where are you from?" "What do you like to do in your spare time?" "Are you a meat or tofu person?"

Ding-ding-ding! Every seven minutes, Techiya rang the silver bell.

Quick scrawling on cards, as SpeedDaters scrambled to record whether the person they had just talked to was polite and respectful, and whether they'd like to see them again.

After each seven minutes, she rang the bell, told the guys to move one table number, or two table numbers, up.

A break at "halftime": Rabbi Levine gave a brief snippet of Jewish wisdom about love. Love isn't about focusing on what the other person can give you, he said. Rather: "Is this a person I can give to?"

A moment of profound silence.

Then: Ding-ding-ding! SpeedDating began again.

Energy flagged just a little toward the end. "What do you like to do in your spare time?" sometimes became: "What's your name again? Your number? Oh, yeah."

But not often.

Ding-ding-ding! End of SpeedDating.

Most of the SpeedDaters breathed a large sigh. Marathon dating completed. They turned in their cards.

And most still had time to hang out, schmooze afterward. They couldn't stop.

The SpeedDating buzz? Addictive.

Some SpeedDating thoughts:

Allison Comer, a 32-year-old Seattleite who works in graphics, began what she calls "my campaign to find someone" a month ago.

"I wasn't being asked out," she said. "And I was sick of waiting." She's not a schmoozer or mingler, she says, so she placed personal ads in Seattle Weekly and on Internet Jewish dating sites.

"I met quite a few people, but not `the one' yet," she said. So when she heard about SpeedDating, she figured "it was just another step in my campaign."

She didn't necessarily expect to find "the one" here. She was only looking to find people she simply liked. And she certainly found that, she said.

For Pam Grieff, a 36-year-old Seattle publicist, dating had become a bit . . . difficult.

Her work schedule - as publicist for culinary retailers such as Salish Lodge and Fran's Chocolates - was all over the map. And by the time evenings or weekends rolled around, sometimes she was just too tired to do the whole dating thing.

The other problem: She really wasn't meeting new people.

When she read about SpeedDating, it seemed like something that would address both those problems.

"I don't really have any expectations of falling in love," she said. "But I think it's a great way to meet people, no pressure, in and out of there in a few minutes."

At parties, she said, it's easier to not mingle and to hang out with people you already know. And at dances or social mixers, it's usually the extroverts who have the most success.

With SpeedDating, where there are no awkward "Should I approach that person?" moments or opportunities to be a wallflower, "everyone's on the same playing field," she said.

Even though the experience felt like a bit of a marathon toward the end, she said, it was simply a good way to meet people.

She'd even like to see several of the guys again.

Joe Shapiro, a 37-year-old consultant from Seattle, had also come expecting only to find folks he would enjoy talking to.

A self-described extrovert, he meets people all the time: standing in line at the grocery store; while volunteer ushering for several theaters; running sound for a folk-music society.

But asking people to dance - Joe loves to dance - and asking women on dates, that's a slightly different story. "The whole rejection thing is a drag," he said.

What he liked about SpeedDating is that it gives everyone the chance to meet others without having to "ask for the dance."

He was a bit tired by the end, he said, but "a party's more draining." With SpeedDating, he says, "you're both there, you know you're paying attention and they're paying attention to you. It's better than competing with the rest of all that chatter at a party."

Even with Joe's high standards (he was looking for a hint of infatuation, something where "I could see myself potentially being mesmerized by them"), he found three women he'd like to see again.

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SpeedDating in Seattle

SpeedDating, a national phenomenon designed to encourage Jewish marriage, will be held again in Seattle on Oct. 25, for those ages 22 to 32. To register, call 206-721-9100. Information on SpeedDating is available on the Web at www.speeddating.com.