Love Is Blind | Issue 05

Love Is Blind | Issue 05

Critic’s infamous blind date column brings you weekly shutdowns, hilariously mismatched pairs, and the occasional hookup. Each week, we lure two singletons to Angus Restaurant / Moon Bar and ply them with alcohol and food (in that order), then wait for their reports to arrive in our inbox. If this sounds like you, email or FB message us. We just want to help our readers find true love.

Meg Ryan

So of course I start my evening with a couple of drinks before heading out on the date. My flatmate and I arrive at the restaurant early and decided to give in to our stalker urges and hang around in the car to see if we can scope out the lucky guy.

As we are waiting, we notice that another car has also been waiting for a while, a guy jumps out of the car and runs towards the restaurant. “Oh crap that’s him … never mind, he’s going into Paasha … damn, with a face like that I wouldn’t have minded the fact he wasn’t wearing shoes.”

Time ticks over to 7:31 and my flatmate and I agree it is a better idea that I be the first to arrive. I walk in, am warmly greeted by the manager, and take a seat at the bar, starting on the bar tab with no hesitation. The best part of my evening at this point is that the staff are more nervous than I am!

Excitement gradually turns to woe as the many minutes pass by and I start to accept that I have been stood up. Lo and behold! A tall and attractive young man walks in and greets me with a hug – my waiting was worthwhile. We begin chatting away about random things such as our funny experiences in Netball and unfortunate accidents with our cherished cars and other words and things and stuff. Turns out he was a competitive swimmer; just take your shirt off already!

After draining the tab and then some, we thank the bar staff for their patience and service and start on our way. My date (being the gentleman that he is) offers me a ride home, which I gratefully accept since I really wasn’t keen to make my way to Moana Pool on foot. I say goodnight and am lucky enough to get a goodnight kiss, STOKED!

Oh yeah I forgot to mention – Critic’s match for me didn’t show, I ended up organising myself a back-up date and considering how it ended looks like he missed out. Why be sad when you can be awesome?

Tom Hanks

I was really looking forward to this date. Ever since I broke up with my sex doll last August (she left me for a Hallensteins mannequin called Fred) I’d been trying to play the field. But now, having been rejected by every sheep in Outram, it was time to play a less literal field. It was time to return the world of real human courtship.

I sent Critic a quick email – “Hi Critic, I’m a sad and unpleasant loser and I would like to sit awkwardly across the table from a girl way out of my league before going home and having a wank, thanks. #YOLO.” Thinking that I was joking, they emailed me back with a date.

The night came. I had a shandy to calm my nerves, listened to some power ballads and a bluegrass cover of “Old McDonald Had a Farm,” and composed a few passive-aggressive notes to leave my flatmates when the mood took me. I checked my messages and there was one from Cindy, my sex doll ex. “Hi, just wanted to say I’m having the totes bestest time with Fred! Hope you’re doing good babe, how’s that sheep of yours? Fred, stop it! Soz, gotta go babe, Fred’s a bit frisky tonight! Bye!”

The pain of that break-up returned with a vengeance. I screamed aloud, and threw faecal matter against my flatmate’s door. It hit the door with a wet slap, and chunks of corn stuck to the surface while dark, marshy streaks trickled down toward the carpet. I felt hungry.

I was halfway to Angus Restaurant, my thoughts still with Cindy, when it struck me. I wasn’t ready for this. I was still lusting after a sex doll and various farm animals, I hadn’t had a normal human interaction in months, and there was shit all over my hands. Whoever the poor, sweet girl Critic had set me up with might be, she was better off without me. Off to Outram I went, noses wrinkling as I lumbered past.

^ This is what happens when you stand up your date. You have been warned.

This article first appeared in Issue 5, 2013.
Posted 6:30pm Sunday 24th March 2013 by Lovebirds.