Love is Blind | Issue 15

Love is Blind | Issue 15

Critic’s infamous blind date column brings you weekly shutdowns, hilariously mismatched pairs, and the occasional hookup. Each week, we lure two singletons to Di Lusso, ply them with food and alcohol, then wait for their reports to arrive in our inbox. If this sounds like you, email critic@critic.co.nz. But be warned – if you dine on the free food and dash without sending us a writeup, a Critic writer will write one under your name. And that won’t end well for you.

Augustus

I went into the Critic blind date expecting to get lucky. I was sadly disappointed. I started my Thursday night with a few brews at the flat; a bit of liquid lubrication was definitely in order for my night ahead. The flatties gave me some pretty choice advice and stopped me from wearing my Adventure Time t-shirt, but I’m still not sure why.

I made my way into Di Lusso, and as I was the first to arrive, I took a seat in front of the fire and waited for my date to show her face. When she walked in the door I greeted her by using my sex voice, hoping to entice her into our evening of pleasure. She gave me a hug and then sat next to me on the couch. I wasn’t expecting her to be so forward.

We started the night with a couple of Red Bull and vodkas and as I felt the drink go to my head our conversation started to flow. I don’t remember much about what she studied, just that her classes sucked and she was ready to forget about them for the night. I was fine to move the conversation onto me, and as I told her about my snake-skin collection and my interest in prog-rock our food order arrived. We had the sliders platter and after skulling back some cider I fed her one of the burgers.

As I put the juicy beef in her mouth, sauce was dripping down my fingers and I was ready for action! I leaned over for a titty grab but got a slap instead. Don’t get me wrong, this chick was hot, but I was ready for some action! As the night started coming to an end I jumped on Tinder and started swiping right; I matched with a few babes in the area and managed to convince one to meet me at mine in 20.

We walked out of Di Lusso together and I tried to give my date a cheeky pash, which failed almost instantly. She gave me a firm handshake and we went our separate ways.

Hazel

After a failed year of romance so far, and a serious lack of attractive people in my small 15-person class, I decided to take the plunge and go on the Critic blind date. Being university holidays and the middle of winter I was slightly afraid of what creature may be lurking in the shadows, but regardless I knew it’d be free food, free drinks and a fun story at the end.

I arrived second and spotted a tall gentleman sitting in the corner, who greeted me with an unusually low voice and a firm handshake. I had a sneaking suspicion I knew him from somewhere but couldn’t quite place him. We got onto work and study and he told me he had a passion for baking and was considering moving to Timaru to pursue this. I know what you’re thinking, right: “dream big!” He showed little interest in what I had to say and seemed to take every opportunity to turn it into a story about himself.

After both downing a vodka and Red Bull (personally, I needed it to stay awake), the platter of sliders was looking pretty appetising. He insisted on feeding one of the beef ones to me and I reluctantly obliged. He made this disturbing slurping sound as he licked sauce off his fingers and I was instantly regretting our food choice. Here’s a hot tip for you future date-goers: order something that you can eat gracefully and isn’t going to be an invitation for innuendos and general weirdness.

As the night went on I became more and more convinced that this guy was one of my flatmate’s Tinder-gone-wrong stories. I recognised him from the photos and she’d told me about his obsession with snakes and the various bad pick-up lines that followed. Towards the end I caught him repeatedly sliding right on his phone, and decided I was officially done. He walked me outside and there was that awkward linger where you’re thinking, “Dear God, I hope he doesn’t try to kiss me.” Lo and behold he leant in, but I ended the date on a handshake and returned to the comfort of my flat.
This article first appeared in Issue 15, 2014.
Posted 6:52pm Sunday 13th July 2014 by Lovebirds.