I was recently at a casting call for a documentary on speed dating (at least that’s what the craigslist ad said). The whole thing sounded interesting, all the boys had been cast, the posting seemed legit and best of all, it was FREE! I sent in my headshot, crossed my fingers, and hoped they had some asian girl quota to fill.

Rather than slowly easing myself back into the dating world, I chose to jump into the deep end of the pool. It was EIGHT back-to-back dates in four minute sessions with a video camera just 20ft away! Up until that moment, I thought I knew how to swim. I’ve read The Rules (and chucked it into the garbage), watched Dr. Phil, and even listened to the innermost thoughts of the other sex.

As one boy expertly stepped over the video cables towards me he said, “I feel like prince charming coming to rescue his princess.” Since when did I need rescuing?!? Did I look like a damsel in distress? Who did this Fabio think he is?!? But what actually came out of my mouth was, “I haven’t dreamt of prince charming since I was five.” In an instant, I realized I no longer believed in fairy tales. I was searching for more than glass slippers and the boy across from me looked like I just told him Santa doesn’t really exist. This date was doomed from the start.

The next boy neatly broke the ice with, “So, what kinda guys do you usually go for?” I wasn’t about to eat up precious time on a four minute date about my comprehensive taste in bread so I opted for the easy kosher answer, “Oh, you know…all types, I’m not really sure.” His eyes widened in disbelief and refused to accept what I had mumbled. He pressed on about how everyone has a type (or things they look for), and I should get on the bandwagon and join the club. My friends who are reading this can probably attest that the answer I gave was completely honest. My musical tastes range from indie rock to opera. I’ve got clothes that scream leather biker rocker chick and a cheerleading uniform neatly tucked away in my drawers. But it got me thinking, should I have a type? After several seconds of deep soul search thinking, I knew what type I didn’t like. The type that asked that kinda question in the first place.