Romeo
After finishing a box of beer to get me in the mood, my flatmates had to drive me to the date resulting in me showing up 20 minutes late. Upon arrival I showed her how truly uncoordinated I was by running into two tables on the way in. This would have been fine had she been drunk as well, but no: she was completely sober, much to my dismay. I started laying the foundations of this glorious relationship; I would divulge my secrets, but to be honest I cannot for the life of me remember them.After ordering the cheapest bottle of red wine on the menu we bonded over how disgusting it was and that’s when the texts began. My flatmates were continuing to pester me with questions about her and how it was going, and she too was being bombarded. At this point we decided to show each other the texts. This would have gone well if she didn’t take an eight out of 10 – and the fact that my flatmate said she should just get drunk and make it easy – as an insult.
I got salmon for dinner with couscous, for I felt it made me seem more mature due my lack of sobriety. This same lack of sobriety got me hopeful for an adventurous evening; she kept pouring me more wine, saying I needed it because she’d had more than me. This was to no avail.
She proceeded to take our relationship to the next level, which was not the level I wanted to go – having to talk about her. She started quizzing me about her and what I’d learned when truthfully I was more distracted by whether this eight out of 10 was going to make an eight-inch out of this three-inch.
At the end of the night we both decided to go our separate ways. As it was for Romeo and Juliet, our mates both wanted us to themselves and were not as encouraging of our newly-formed relationship. So we left and I decided to go find my fill elsewhere, only to see each other later in Fever for one last dance.
Juliet
As part of a classic flat bucket list my name was entered into the Critic Blind Date. Unbeknown to me, my flatmates sent the request from my own email. One flatmate kindly lingered outside to check the date’s suitability – super sleuth dedication considering he arrived 20 minutes later.I heard him before I saw him – he walked straight into a table behind me and straight into the muffin tray on the counter. He soon told me he had already had a 15-pack. Despite this he ordered a beer, I had a cocktail, and we shared a bottle of red wine. He couldn’t finish his half so poured it into mine – not complaining. Small talk quickly turned into what he expected to hear in speeches at his upcoming 21st. He’s unsure if he wants his mother to know he began watching porn at age 8. He even extended an invitation to me to his 21st.
Food soon arrived and stand-out quotes from him included “hah I am not a fine diner” and “what the fuck is this!” as he flattened a pile of couscous. Awkwardness was minimal as we traded texts asking how the night was going – his included “how hot?” and “banging later?” I was unimpressed with his sent text rating me 8/10.
After dessert I was ready to find my friends, despite his friend’s order to “bring the duck to Queen St.” He soon text saying “def 10 out of 10,” very gentlemanly of him. He had told me he hated Fever, my regular, so it was a curious coincidence when I found him there, slumped on a couch, four hours later. He kicked me as I walked past and offered me notes in exchange for pole dancing/a work trial for Stilettos. I gapped it to the other side of the d-floor and ended the night in the safe confines of friends. It was a hilarious night – thank you Critic, the American girl who signed him up and of course the romantic staff at Angus Restaurant and Moon Bar.