Ashton
The lads and I had the night planned quite a way out, just waiting for the right moment to reveal that we had secretly nominated one of the boys to partake in the renowned Critic blind date. When future Romeo found out about this he wouldn’t believe it, no matter how many times we all reassured him. His eventual realisation resulted in shit hitting the fan as nuts dropped to the floor. Trying desperately to escape from the cruel hands of fate he began proposing all sorts of bribes to someone that would take his place. He offered me one hundred dollars to take his place – who could resist one hundred dollars plus a free feed and half of a fifty-dollar bar tab?By the time I’d downed a couple of drinks and received an inspirational pep talk from the lads it was time to roll to Angus Restaurant. I was soon perched up at the bar sipping on a beer, waiting for the moment when Juliet would arrive. After about five minutes she entered. We introduced ourselves, sat down at the romantic table for two by the fireplace, ordered drinks, and began discussing our study plans.
Soon enough our drinks arrived and it was time to order our meals. She initiated this by requesting the casein chicken whilst I thought I would treat myself to the rib eye steak. We were presented with our meals (as well as a couple more beers for me and vodka-cranberries for her) before she ventured off to the bathroom. Coincidentally, this was when my mates came in and wandered through to the bar so that they could get a taste of the “romance” in the air. She returned to the table and explained to me that her friends were dining at the table next to us, which became a bit awkward as time went on.
We soon finished eating and spent the last of our bar tab on two last shots which we downed immediately before we began listing off things that we learnt about each other just to cap the night off. Farewells were short and sweet; we hugged it out and went our separate ways, both knowing that this Romeo and Juliet were not meant to be.
Demi
I was looking forward to a good smash. I hadn’t had one in just over a week. I was in need.In the hour leading up to the date I was ambushed by my floor-mates. Wine and more wine and repetitive Hutt anthems were employed to simmer down the strange nervousness that was anticipation of a good or bad date …
Unfortunately, this was the “not-good” kind. I arrived a few minutes late to find a nervous and stiff-looking guy at the bar waiting. I approached the bar and indicated I was here for the blind date, noticing the broad shoulders, blue eyes and blond hair I had been hoping for.
In no fewer words could I describe this date: awkward … he had been set up “by his mates” and I had half-nominated myself for a good time, half spurred on by my best friend. Both being first years (although our age gap was obvious – he was 18 and still lived with Ma and Pa; I was 20 and …) there were a lot of those tumbleweed moments where conversation reached an awkward standstill. I ordered the chicken. He ordered the steak. After we received our meals he mentioned he would have normally ordered the chicken. I was confused.
I ducked into the bathroom for a mid-date seal breaker and on my return it became clear that not only had his friends arrived at the bar, but my friends had arrived at a table very nearby for dessert. Well, nom nom.
The bar tab was almost gone. Despite my best efforts ordering more rounds, I was drinking him under the table. No signs of loosening up. All hope was lost.
When we spoke about the write up he asked how long it had to be. I replied 350 words. He was pleased about this, as it was the exact number of a P.E. write up he had to do. Hoorah.
Not to be left out would be the eventful “cya.” After he verbally initiated a “hug” goodbye I bantered for a while without prevailing. We had a shot and an awkward hug. Thanks Critic for the experience!