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Justin Bieber

The evening kicked off at home with a couple of pies, some good music and a 15 box to calm the nerves. The flatmates showed more interest in the grand event than in either the Royal Wedding or a free sausage from the Christians.
Showered and shaved up and down, I was feeling on form for the big evening. It had been quite a while since going out on a date, let alone a blind one. I thought to myself, fuck I hope she isn't blind or porky like Mike King.
I arrived at the bar nice and early, trying to make a good impression. The dimmed lighting clearly wasn't working in my favour, as when the attractive young lady walked into the bar she asked the wrong guy if he would like to sit down. Not the greatest start.
We laughed it off and got a cheeky beer and wine to kick it off. Starting with the usual questions; wax or shave, scrunch or fold, spit or swallow, and does your old man own a brewery? Usual Kevin bloody Wilson convo. I rated the banter we had with a few un-forced laughs and a couple of thigh grabs. We moved on to some fruity shakers to heat up the evening. My date (I’m sorry, I have forgotten your name for the third time) exceeded expectations in the looks department, so I was keen to see where things led.
Once the bar tab ran out we moved on to The Bog, as it seems the place to be on these blind date nights. We ordered a couple more beers and gins, then before I knew it she was on the waters. Maybe she was suggesting something? Either she’s DTF or she’s fuckin’ over it. I did the gentlemanly deed and walked her home. A raunchy tongue wrestle at the door lead to our hands caressing all sorts, we stumbled down the hallway tearing each other’s clothes off. This led to the bathroom where things got steamy (the shower isn’t even on yet),at this point she goes down south and gives me a mean hummer before riding the shaft reverse cowgirl style. Yeah right (fucking fourth year law holdout).
A pash at the door was as far as it went before I walked back home and cooked up the goodies. All in all, cheers Critic and Toast for the date, you have brought together true love.
P.S. I may have ventured into Lucky7 on the way home for some late night activities.

Selena Gomez

 
8pm was looming. The anticipation was killing me. After a drink or two to calm the nerves, my flatmates dropped me off to the much-awaited date. One was even so excited she came along in her pyjamas.

 
Entering Toast bar, some confusion arose. Two potential dates stood at the bar, one already with a drink. We all looked expectantly at each other. Oh dear. Who was it? The bartender asked what we each wanted. I said gin and tonic, with the hope that I wouldn’t have to pay. The barman asked if we were paying together.  I said no. I wanted to work out which guy had the bar tab so I didn’t have to pay. The male closest to me said “If I wasn’t meeting someone, I would buy you a drink”. This confused me. Was it me he was meeting? Apparently not, as he walked away. Never mind, I got the hotter of the two.
 

To quell the awkwardness, we thought we’d get started with some easy questions. I ask first. “So what did you get up to over summer?” His turn. “So have you been in many relationships before?” The awkwardness was overwhelming. When he went to the toilet I texted my flatmates his last name so they could find him on Facebook (mainly for age verification).
 

A positive was that neither of us showed up drunk. (He did mention I wasn’t the drunk girl he expected.) After this, we kept the questions less serious like “what is your favourite animal?” How does someone studying zoology not have a favourite animal?
 

When the silences came along we became aware of the need for another drink. This was often. Gin and tonics. Shakers. More gin and tonics. The tab didn’t last long. My mind starts to fog a little and I honestly don’t know what we talked about most of the time. Why was it only 10pm?  After Toast emptied out we may or may not have continued on to The Bog.

 
Somehow it was 1am and everything was a haze. How he managed to follow me into my flat and then my room “to get a pen to write my number on his hand” was beyond me. The alcohol, the stranger, it was all a bit much. I somehow got him to leave. I might have written my number down though.