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Minnie
My good friend was supposed to be going on this week’s date, but after breaking into hot sweats and vomiting due to nerves an hour before she was supposed to go, I kindly stepped up to the plate. I walked into Toast at 8pm and managed to walk right past my date. This could be attributed to his very short stature. Also turned out my date was an Australian. This being RWC time, I informed him that this wasn’t a good selling point as I am a code head who wouldn’t date anyone that didn’t support the All Blacks.
 
After discussing many of his great talents - from surfing and guitar playing to cooking perfect poached eggs - things were starting to look up. Some of his Australian friends turned up, one whom I didn’t know but had taken the liberty of adding me as a friend on Facebook earlier that week.  Some awkward introductions followed whereby we both pretended to not recognise the other. Was enjoyable to see that the friend request had been taken down the next morning.
 
After a few drinks, my date’s true colours came out.  He suggested rating the hotness of rugby players and was very defensive of his favourite ‘rugby hunks’. He then continued to discuss how he enjoyed the gay lifestyle provided to him in Sydney but which seemed to be lacking in Dunedin. I suddenly became aware that I was becoming the ‘female best friend’ and probably wouldn’t be getting that pash that I so desperately wanted, being a cougar firth year.
 
This was confirmed upon our entry to Di Lusso where the bartender called him ‘sugar pie’ and made us his regular pink fruity vodka drink. He kindly offered to get me blind drunk so that I would forget that he did not like women, however I kindly refused and went on my way home promising him a shopping date next week.
 
Mickey
I’ve always thought a blind date to be a weird concept, but after reading several of these articles over the past few weeks, curiosity arose. I secretly penned a relatively simple email and thought I wouldn’t get a reply. A few hours later, however, I learned my application was successful.
 
I was nervous as fuck so I had a beer with dinner and made my way to Toast. My date walked in a minute or two later and made her way to the bar. I was pleased to see that she wasn’t drunk and was a very good looking girl. Dark hair, dark eyes and a great smile.
 
I introduced myself and we started with a beer each. Neither of us was keen on the idea of blowing the tab on shakers so we sat down and got the conversation rolling. Unfortunately when I’m nervous I do a lot of talking and a bit of stuttering but I’m hoping I was pleasant enough. Then again, even this report is quite self-indulgent so who knows?
 
I did find out she was a JAFA, but that was probably a good thing for a change. It led to some banter about me being an alcoholic, homosexual, gambler. So I guess she won that round. I probably got a point for her not actually being my date, so I felt I drew level. Being from relatively sophisticated cities, we naturally compared the wonders of Dunedin to that of home, and agreed that we have a bit of a soft spot for this cold, wet, party town.
 
Of course it wouldn’t be a convo with a Kiwi without talk of code. The RWC obviously got some heavy attention and I think I got some brownie points for suggesting that the ABs will win, despite myself being from across the ditch. Those brownie points were diminished again with a bit more gay banter and my socially awkward self-promotion.
 
We popped into Di Lusso for a nightcap and made our way home with more yarns and ended on a hug and a high-five. I had a great night with a great girl; so cheers Toast and Critic and fingers crossed for a FB add.