Jackie ChanI was sitting down with my friend Lianne, having a laugh or two about Critic when the novel idea of signing up for a blind date became a reality. “Study abroad is about challenges” were my famous last words as I sent the email request through. Fast-forward a month later and I was posted in Di Lusso, palms sweaty, ready to embrace a potential date from hell. I had already skulled three to four standards and as a good friend once bluntly pronounced, “ready to get it on with a girl that was uglier than me.”
My date was a fashionable fifteen minutes late but the smile she put on as she strutted into the bar was worth the wait. Fortunately she was much cuter than I had anticipated and possessed a real charm to her. Immediately I was drawn into her friendly and outgoing personality.
The date was going swell when all of a sudden a group of friends spilled into the previously empty spaces of Di Lusso. They had all come from a BYO and were way more drunk than the two of us. “This is my nightmare,” I thought to myself. No better cock-block than 15 drunk international students. My friend Haico even posted up behind her and gazed at me for a good 10 minutes as if we were locked in a starring contest.
Needless to say, my date handled the distractions like a champ and we continued on with our romantic rendezvous. We ended up staying at Di Lusso until we ran our tab dry. As we proceeded to leave I could tell there were no sparks in the air so I politely hugged her goodbye and began my journey home. Not the best case scenario but I guess if it wasn’t meant to be, then it wasn’t meant to be. I grabbed a bottle of shitty wine on the way home and ended my night by watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall. What a great film.
Golden SparrowAs a fourth year student, I thought I’d experienced most Scarfie experiences: sinking jugs at The Cook, smashing holes through walls at red cards, and the occasional cheeky hook up at Monkey Bar. Yet one experience had not yet been fulfilled on my Otago bucket list: the Critic Blind Date. Thanks to my good friend who happens to work there, she decided to take my drunken Saturday night words for real and turned them into reality.
Date night arrived and I psyched myself up with a few cheeky vodkas, with the flatmates giving crucial advice beforehand: keep it cool, crack jokes and don’t be weirder than you already are. A lot tiddlier than I should have been, I headed into Di Lusso.
When my date introduced himself, I was greeted with a Jackie Chan-esque look alike, but alas he was a smooth talking exchange student from Los Angeles. We started yarning, blurted our way through the tab and made the most of the snazzy drinks – because, let’s be honest, what student drinks anything other than $8 bottles of wine? We ambled through the basic “get-to-know-you” questions and I discovered that my date in fact has Hollywood connections with washed-up actor Adam Sandler. Secretly I’m stoked that I now have a foot in the door to become a superstar, or the next Lindsay Lohan.
Several cocktails later, we become interrupted by a mutual friend who had “just happened to be in the area” and thought it would be hilarious to check up on us. The interrupter even bought two shots for my date and I, just after helping herself to the food sitting at our table.
Unfortunately with that, our date and bar tab came to an end. Both of us departed ways in the Octagon to other engagements (in my case, to go home and play with the flat cat). Cheers Critic for a blind date that was nowhere near as terrifying as anticipated! And sorry to all the readers who are still waiting on a kinky date write up. Unfortunately the kinkiest thing that happened that night was pulling out the sprinkler dance move at a flat later on.