Two intrepid Thrillist writers, unbeknownst to one another, attended to find out.
I took my place across from a nice girl in a beanie.
Comedian Dave Hill, the emcee for the night, said something unintelligible and started up a song. Beanie Girl offered up some great advice: 'You'll get called out right away if you try to fake it like that with bitch music [name-dropping],' she told me.
Instead, as I dressed for the evening (black pants, black boots, black shirt, leather jacket -- you get the picture), I went back to what I knew and jammed to "I walked in and was actually quite surprised.
The setup was a lot more organized than I expected, the registration only took about a minute.
Every lady I talked to was engaging, excited to be there, and just plain nice.
Everyone was also in agreement that the event itself was totally ridiculous.
After we filled out our name tags, we headed to the bar for some pre-date drinks and anxiously awaited the start.
The turnout was massive, but it came down to numbered spots for 37 men and 37 women.
But it was my lack of metal expertise that was more intimidating." "I'm no metal head.