My friend Kate has been the real trailblazer in this latest adventure in gonzo dating. About the same time that we signed up for Crazy Blind Dates, she suggested that we sign up for Quiz Dates, which is basically a combination of pub trivia and speed dating.

The event was last week at a bar near where I work, in the Financial District. When I got there, they gave me a name tag, handed me a scorecard with all the guys’ names on it, told me where my table was, and informed me of the “girl” drink special: pinot for $4. I had an IPA. The check-in table was chock-full of gum and mints, which I thought was a clever touch.

Kate was the next on my team to arrive, and then the third girl, L. Each table has six people: three guys (all on one team) and three girls (all on one team). You have one answer sheet per round, and both teams have to work together to answer the questions. After each round, the guys rotate to the next table and the girls stay.

Before the first round even started, we had to pick team names (mine was the Somali Pirettes), so we were able to chat with the first guys, St., N., and S., for a good amount of time. All three were really nice, friendly, smart guys. We aced the first round, with Scott unapologetically admitting that he knew all four Olympic gymnastics events that men, but not women, compete in. Well done.

After that, it went faster. Basically, with each round, the conversation went like this:

• Introductions, shaking of hands, dudes sit down
• Have you ever done this before? If yes, then ask when and where. If no, then move on to the next question.
• Have you ever done pub trivia before? If no, then conversation fizzles out and attention is directed towards someone who answered yes. If yes, then move on to the next question.
• What’s your specialty? Variations on this question, such as “Are you good?” or “What are you good at?” are also acceptable.
• Awkward small talk until the round begins.

The room was loud, and so it was hard to really get to know anyone. One feature of Quiz Dates is that any guys who are overly competitive immediately reveal their true colors. I hate guys who are overly competitive. I love guys who are somewhat competitive. There’s something deeply attractive about a guy who’s willing to fight for you (plural, as in “the couple”). There’s something deeply repulsive about a guy who’s only willing to fight for himself.

My competitive side definitely came out. I INSISTED that the 1999 film about a prison based on a Stephen King story was “Shawshank Redemption,” despite one guy’s insistence that it was the “Green Mile.” (His reasoning was faulty; he said that “Shawshank” was based on a true story.) I finally relented when Kate reminded me  that the theme was “Green.” (And I said to the guy, “You’re totally right; Shawshank came earlier” to acknowledge my stubbornness and his partial wrong-ness.)

There were some interesting characters. J. refused to tell us all the answer to a bonus question, even though we all knew it and the right answer only got you a chance in a raffle for a canvas bag. We were convinced that two guys who had known each other since they played Little League together in the midwest were actually a gay couple. N. pulled out his iPhone to check an answer, and I put down the pen, refusing to make the change (though allowing anyone else to). Cheaters never win.

P. worked in web marketing and specialized in SEO, so I started talking to him about that. Only he thought I didn’t know anything about it (yo, I do), so he talked to me as if I was an idiot. He also dissed writers and editors who “just don’t get SEO,” and said that he was glad that he was a consultant now so that people had to listen to him. I, in turn, wrote “D-bag” next to his name on my scorecard.

L. even ran into a coworker who she wasn’t expecting to see, which would have been awkward except that he seemed like a really nice guy. He helped us win the music round, and we pulled into first place (for the chicks) when I was perhaps the only one in the room who correctly identified “Your Momma Don’t Dance and Your Daddy Don’t Rock ‘n’ Roll” as being by Poison. You can take the girl out of New Jersey…

Kate and I could taste victory. L. was into winning, but I was just about foaming at the mouth at that point. I’m not ashamed to admit it. (Well, not now. I was a little embarrassed at the time.) I got a bit nervous seeing the guys who were at our table for the last round. R. and P. seemed really nice (P. was British, say no more), but their teammate…

Before he even sat down, C. said, “I was a theater arts major.” “Oh really, I couldn’t tell,” I said, eying his white suit, black collared shirt, and white summer fedora. He immediately picked up the pen, with a theater arts flourish, and took charge of the scorecard. My palms started sweating. I did not want to lose, but I also did not want to be the chick who went crazy because she didn’t want to lose at pub trivia.

We did OK on the answers. I wasn’t feeling confident, so when the quizmasterbegan repeating the questions, I tried to listen intently. But C., noticing, perhaps, that the attention of the table was on something other than him, started telling a story that is basically this:

I was working as an usher at a concert venue. While walking backstage, I turned a corner and ran right into Seal, who I didn’t recognize. [Note the potential gap in logic: He's working an event, but he doesn't have any idea what the performer looks like.] Seal is momentarily shocked, I antagonize him, he gets upset and says something like, “Who the hell are you?” I pull out my keys, unlock a door that he doesn’t have access to, and say, “I’m the guy with the keys.”

Fascinating, eh? Apparently he found out it was Seal (and who Seal was) the next week when he heard two security guards talking about it.

We all then said that we were surprised that Seal would act like a jerk, and also that we didn’t believe Heidi Klum would marry a jerk because she seems like a nice person. C. insisted that he is well known for being a jerk. “EVERYBODY knows he’s a jerk. EVERYONE hates him!” he said. “In fact, he was such a jerk, that if I saw him, I would totally have punched him.”

“You wouldn’t have punched him,” Kate said.

“No, I would have,” said C., getting more and more worked up. “In fact, if I had had a knife — wait, I did have a knife. If I wasn’t at work, if I was at a bar or something where I couldn’t get fired, I totally would have knifed him.”

We still won for the girls’ team. And L. won the bag for the bonus question, no thanks to J. No love connections, though.