International SMC Research Institute Cooperation Initiative Hosted www.cellphnlckn.com . What does that even mean? Of course, I had to go check it out. The whole process was interesting. An hour before the event, I get a text sent to my phone saying the party is at 92Y in Tribeca at 9pm. EEK, I'm late!

Got there a bit after 9:00pm and was immediately escorted by individuals in white jump suits to register. I was told to put on a white jumpsuit that was marked up on the front and back with the numbers 2219. While, I put on my white jumpsuit, I watched a training video that explained to me how to log in with my number 2219 and write my bio like a personal ad. You know those that you read saying "25 yrs old from CA, love traveling, hiking and long walks on the beach". Yes, I ended up at a cell phone matchmaking party. After a few moments of laughter and thoughts of what am I doing here? I wrote my bio - I love chocolate. It's what I wanted in the moment and I do love me some good raw chocolate. Once we were dressed we were directed to get our pictures taken before entering the dance party room. Pictures were snapped like I was going to prom, but in my jail bird get up without the black strips. We entered the room to stand awkwardly in our new garb looking at the large flat screens with our bios constantly being fed through on the screen. You look at the sea of white jumpsuits and everyone's head was glued to their cell phone. Everyone is drinking and updating their bio to add some amusement to the crowd. I saw one fairly cute guy walk by making a joke about his buddies bio being blasted on the screen and texted in his number. My phone buzzed back with: Why aren't you shaking your booty on the dance floor? I laugh amusingly and think to myself, wow no one knows what's going on.

Ultimately, this cell phone dating or meet new people party was a bit awkward and confusing, but free booze for 3 hours made the white jumpsuiters happy. Oh, not to forget the exciting performance of the secret dance party engineer, Yacht. Would I go again? Ehhh Maybe.

By Seema Shah