By Che Rippinger

Sunday, April 14, - Martinis are the new lite beers, and "speed dating" is the new bar scene.

Just when you thought it was safe to step into the dating waters without your floaties, along comes a speedboat filled with datable partygoers. Either jump on board or suck up their wake.

Remember when dating was about courting, romance, coyness and flirting? Well, apparently there's no time for that anymore. We're a bunch of busy, stressed-out, over-processed worker bees with a lot going on in life, constantly struggling to keep up with social- and work-related colony activities. Who has time to meet a friend of a friend with a nice personality, when we're simultaneously due at three locations?

Enter speed dating, or as I call it, "Date-O-Rama." This is the modernized version of the old "grandmother introductions". . . except many times over.

So I tried it myself. A colleague's friend owns a new company called Denver Date-a-Thon. Encouraged to attend one of their 7-minute-match events, I said, tepidly, "Sure, why not go for one more humiliation?" I have actually had a date that lasted for just 8 minutes, which beat my previous record of 20 minutes.

(Side note: The 8-minute guy, after I arrived late for our blind date, decided he was not only tired but also had a headache. Ouch! At least he didn't say he also had to wash his hair. The 20-minute guy met me at a restaurant, put his running shoes on the table and proceeded to take several cellphone calls, eliminating the already sparse time he had to talk to me.)

Back at my "Date-o-Rama," the friendly folks at the Date-a-Thon emphasized how much fun I would have at one of their events, unlike any of the others put on by "Brand X" companies. Because I have a sales background, I love a good pitch, especially when it involves a ring announcer and a ring-card girl who facilitates the rounds. Hellooooo, we need ring card boys, too!

The rules of the event, for those following the game at home, are as follows: Must participate in your own age category. I went for the 32-45 age category, although the sponsors also have 21-35 and 40-55 events. (Note to self: No May/December or Anna Nicole-type trysts available.)

Must read and sign liability waiver and leave a copy of your driver's license. (If you turn out to be a psycho stalker, the police get your vital info quickly.) Must have fun. I'm making that one up, since the Thon actually has some very excited alternates standing by, in case someone is unable to fulfill his or her ringside duties.

Ding. Ding. Ding. Grab your drink (water for me, thanks) and your contact card and, "Lets get ready to daaaaaaaaaate!" boomed the Michael Buffer-style announcer.

I moved to the first table. Nice conversation. Second table, nice conversation. Third table, nice conversation. Somewhere between our rounds we had two intermissions, during which we could meet anyone we had the guts to go up to but with whom we weren't already computer paired.

My brain tried to keep track, but the few things I managed to remember weren't very helpful when it came time to check the "yes" box or the "no" box. I had officially reached "brain fuzz," that point where neither details nor major points of interest can be retained.

In the bathroom, a gal asked if I had any "yeses" yet.

"Yeah, a couple," I replied. She hadn't found anyone yet who met the suggested criteria - could you see yourself talking with this person again over coffee? You didn't need to feel compelled to have his baby.

Back at the tables, we had pre-printed prompt sheets to consult in case our own conversation starters weren't working. My favorite, although I did not resort to using it, was "What have you learned from your past relationships?" (Hello! We have 7 business minutes here, not several therapy hours.)

I also liked the query suggested at another Brand X event I spied on: "What is in the trunk of your car?"

Um, dead body? But then I watch way too many "Sopranos" reruns.

After turning in your cards and selecting your "yeses," the staff contacts you with the phone numbers or e-mail addresses of any people who also marked you a "yes." Then you are on your own to get in touch.

Only one of my two selections also requested for me, so the staff member jokingly suggested I attend another of their events. I believe he suggested I buy a punch card. I hope he was just kidding.

Recommendation: Sure, try this speed dating thing if you aren't meeting people at your usual hangouts. For $60 - or, as the staff puts it, about what you'd spend on an unfruitful night out - you can meet several people quickly. Across town, another company charges $30 to set you up with eight people for eight minutes each. Warning: Date-O-Rama results may vary. You could find your dream mate.

More likely, you'll remember only a blur of faces.

I did call the guy I matched with. He was the one I offended right off the bat with what I thought was a cute and endearing remark: "You look like a nice Italian boy." Oops, he is Jewish, but cleverly covered my faux pas by spewing out some well-pronounced Italian phrases. Though lively at the table, he was less than enthused to hear from me later. I called him at work, and he was busy, he said. Plus it was Passover, and he observes the holiday religiously.

I checked with a Jewish friend about the protocol: Is he restricted from talking to girls over the holiday? Unless I was leavened, she said, it shouldn't be a problem. I got the distinct feeling that "I'll call you later" actually meant "I'm not interested." Maybe he needed to wash his hair, too.

Eventually he did call me back, and we shared a delightfully romantic dinner. Instead of a ringside bell, however, the restaurant owner desperately shut off the lights in an attempt to cease our conversation. Apparently we talked long past our allotted seven minutes. Che Rippinger is a Denver-area cartoonist and woman about town. Her "Dating and Hand Grenades" column appears weekly in Sunday Lifestyles. You can e-mail her at living@denverpost.com , or write her c/o The Scene, 1560 Broadway, 2nd floor, Denver 80202.

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