Peter
I sat in the bar, being my usual self, in anticipation of my date. Struggling to focus as I had scoffed down a bottle of wine, and had further drinking to go, she suddenly arrived. When my eyes lay upon her (barely), my heart skipped a beat and butterflies came as I thought, “you’ll do and throwing up would be a nice thing to do right now.” In any case, I soldiered on. I tried to focus and, in any case, being the young woman she was, she may have been quite unaware of my state.We discussed the usual things and although the conversation was nice there were definitely things to set off alarms, such as her being a fresher (keep in mind I’m 23, so half a decade difference) and the fact that she lived in a hall, but drunken me is an idiot and refuses to make any mature decisions. So I asked her back to mine with the classic line, “Do you want to watch a movie back at mine,” which she agreed to.
We taxied back to mine, going straight to my room as I put on the classic Wreck it Ralph, fully knowing where the real wrecking was going to happen. A sudden plot twist halted my plans as she revealed to me that she was as much a virgin as 99 per cent of all computer science majors. Again, I make terrible decisions when drinking and one drunken night plus a bloody condom later, left me with the thought, “oh no, hymen trouble.”
So a great night thanks to Critic but now I believe I should stay home for a while and maybe question my morals as my friends have now coined me the virgin slayer. All in all, though: no regrets.
Trish
Two of my close friends decided it would be a good idea to send me on the Critic Blind Date. I initially refused, but after pressure from my entire hall, which resulted in a campaign video and a poll on our Facebook page, I begrudgingly agreed to go along with it, at the expense of a night spent in my fat pants, accompanied with popcorn and chocolate. As you can tell, I was making serious sacrifices.Once I got there I walked up to the bar, explaining that I was here for the blind date, the bartender introduced me to him. I liked what I saw. He had blonde hair, stunning smile, black pants with a crisp white shirt. He’d nailed his outfit; I was in for a treat!
At this point the nerves had gotten to me, I fumbled sitting down at the table. “Deep breaths,” I thought to myself. After a wine or two, I started to relax; I had never been on an official “date” before, so this was a very stressful experience.
The conversation ranged from past memories of Taekwon-do to the Civilian Party. This date was going better than expected. The conversation continued, until I realised it was 10.30pm – we’d been here for three hours! This date had far exceeded my expectations of a 20-minute dine-and-dash.
The Di Lusso DJ started to set up for the night, so we decided to move on. “Would you like to come to mine for a movie” was the way he proposed we spend the rest of this night. With the full knowledge that we wouldn’t be spending the night watching movies, I hopped into the taxi with him. Let’s just say, we both got our happy ending; looks like a night spent in my fat pants, accompanied with popcorn and chocolate was a good price to pay. Cheers, Critic!