It started months ago when the first speed dating event was listed in local English magazines, newspapers and websites.

A speed dating event, the first in Beijing, was supposed to take place in Pipe's Cafe on October 23, 2003.

About eight people showed up that night. Unfortunately one very important person got cold feet - the organizer.

The night proved to be a  "dating debacle." But all was not lost. A few of those showing up that night - all foreign teachers who say that their lives are so secluded they get little opportunity to meet people from the same background - put together their own plans for a speed dating night. It took shape less than two months later.

It is Thursday December 11. Christmas is still two weeks away. Fifteen single men meet 15 single women for three-minute periods at a time at The Pink Loft in Sanlitun.

I am among the first to arrive 15 minutes ahead of the scheduled time. The event was held in a secluded L-shaped room on The Pink Loft's attic between the 2nd and 3rd floor. The organizers have divided it into two parts for men and women separately waiting for the speed-dating session to start.

Upon payment (80 yuan for free flow of drinks and wines and some nibbles), I was given a number and a score card to rate each dater into one of three categories:  "Yes,"  "Friends" and  "No."

 "You are not supposed to reveal your name, workplace or telephone number before or during the dating event. You are the number you are given," one of the speed dating crew, Tamara Palmer, an art teacher from a local international school, reminds everyone on their arrival.

By about 7:20 pm, all have arrived; two-thirds expatriates, one-third of Chinese appearance.

The dividing line in the room is broken and each woman finds her table according to her number. Then each man also finds his table with his female opposite number.

 "Loosen up. Remember, you're not getting married, you're just having fun," Tamara yells as her male assistant Sam Hopper prepares to blow the whistle for the first time.

Nervous laughter greets her words.

As soon as the whistle blows, there is a dramatic transformation: 15 tables of fidgeting, twitching, foot-shifting uneasiness turn into a maelstrom of chattering, giggling adrenalin.

My first date is a clean-shaven, good-looking French student in his 20s who has come to China for an internship.

Before we can learn much more than where we come from, we have run out of the seemingly long 180 seconds.

As the whistle blows and the hubbub rises during the seat-shifting, pleasant conversation become more and more difficult because of the repetition of the same questions, and partly because of the noise around you.

For those who, like me, have no idea how to start a conversation with a member of the opposite gender, there is a crib sheet with suggested questions. I try one of them.

I ask:  "What are the three things you most want your date to know?"

 "I am single, this is the first thing I want you to know," Jason (handsome but serious looking) tells me in a logical and concise way. And before I can think about mine, it is my turn to answer.

I don't come up with a good answer.

I flip through for another question:  "What are you going to be in five years?" another one that would certainly catch me unprepared. So I give them all up and come up with a simple one. I ask everyone:  "Have you been to one of these things before?"

With hindsight it seems tactless as most of them end up talking about the dating event itself rather themselves. But at least, this is something anyone can talk about at that moment.

The most awkward moment comes when I meet a Singaporean in his 40s who turns out to speak the same lauguages I do: English, Chinese and even the same dialect.

Ironically we don't talk naturally in any of these languages and keep shifting from one to another.

I feel so grateful when the whistle blows and he says awkwardly:  "I will talk to you in the social hour."

I don't give him the chance.

I leave when the dating session finishes. I turn in my score card: it has no  "yesses", seven  "friends" and eight  "noes."

On December 14, I received the dating result: I in turn got six  "friends" and their contact numbers and e-mails plus a message from the organizers:

 "We had a great mix of people and it looks like it could be the beginning of many great friendships! We wish you success as you pursue your corresponding matches.

"We hope to see you at our next event on February 19, 2004."

(Beijing Weekend  February 18, 2004)