As daters are provided with their own private barman and DJ, and a person - rather than machine - collates the mutual matches at the end of the evening, the experience is a personal and intimate one that might just succeed in pairing you with that life-changing other.
We sit down in the low wooden seating and observe: a funky hole in the central wall; a huge shop front window with full curtains; a perfect view of the abandoned car park and disused warehouse across the street. To the left of us is Henry Holland; that chap off of that there telly with the impractically erect hair and shadowy tan.
It’s enjoyable to note a crumbing bastion of Industrialisation from within a building of reclaimed modernity. It’s always nice to bump into someone you know at a bar, even if they don’t know you and you’ve never actually met.
On the horizon a game of ping pong wiff-waff is taking place.
The Book Club's "Last Night a Speed Date Changed My Life" may not have radically transformed this lovelorn Londonista's world - there were a few sparks but no earth-shattering moments of romantic revelation - but it successfully Changed My Attitude to speed dating.
It was not uncommon in the early days of speed dating to find the female daters clustered together in the loos, bonding over a shared despair at the lack of social graces displayed by their male counterparts.
And the venues - most often than not sleazy West End chain bars - were only conducive to romance after imbibing an unhealthy number of discounted spirits.
The Book Club's monthly speed dating evening was an altogether different affair.
The dimly-lit, sparsely furnished basement was low key and welcoming, and strangers comfortably mingled before the official proceedings had even begun.
With five minutes to pair up and chat, conversations just managed to extend beyond the repetitive "is this your first time? "; questions that invariably lead one to invent increasingly creative responses in an effort to stay alert by date number 10.
The Book Club has already established itself as the go-to venue for edgy, creative types looking for a dash of art, current affairs or philosophy to go with their Shoreditch Twats (that's a cocktail, not a local).
It was therefore no surprise that these single Book Clubbers were sharply turned out, witty conversationalists who spoke with verve about their latest design piece, art shoot or marketing campaign.