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Critic’s infamous blind date column brings you weekly shutdowns, hilariously mismatched pairs, and the occasional hookup. Each week, we lure two singletons to Di Lusso, ply them with food and alcohol, then wait for their reports to arrive in our inbox. If this sounds like you, email critic@critic.co.nz. But be warned – if you dine on the free food and dash without sending us a writeup, a Critic writer will write one under your name. And that won’t end well for you.

Bill

It had finally arrived: the call-up for Critic’s infamous Blind Date. Not one to turn down a $100 bar tab and the chance to tick this iconic experience off the Scarfie bucket list, I accepted the invitation.

Fast-forward to an hour before the date and I’m with my mates in the kitchen chucking some beers back and wondering what the fuck I had gotten myself into.
Arriving five minutes early, I tucked into a pint and waited for her to pitch. All of my previous apprehensions vanished when she came in. She was drop-dead gorgeous with long brown hair, a tight skirt, long legs and a smile that would make even Judith Collins moist. At her suggestion we got straight into drinks. We skipped the wine and splashed out on some Long Island Ice Teas ($20 each!) and soon the conversation was flowing. She was doing an English paper that I did last year and we found mutual interests in literature and a shared disdain for Sylvia Plath. She was really intelligent and had a keen interest in art. It’s all about interpretation, apparently; you could shit in a bag and set it on fire and it would still be art. Beautiful.

The bartender kept the drinks up and was an outstanding wingman by getting me to have a full conversation in French with him, much to the surprise of my date. I was playing my cards well until I smashed a glass off the bar. Despite my repeated apologies, he wasn’t best pleased. Sorry again, pal.

The bar filled up & after some mingling we met the Dean of Students from the University of Seattle who shouted us some tequila. Champ! With our vision blurring we caught a gig at the Robbie Burns and then headed back to mine for some dirty politics beneath the sheets. After a cheeky bowl of Coco Pops the clothes were ripped off. She was great in bed and gave head superbly. Before class we went back for seconds with some steamy morning sex to herald in the new day.
Cheers Critic for a great night!

Belinda

I’ve been on dates with strangers before but it usually consists of hitting up Tinder when bored and sober back home to seduce some poor fellow into buying me drinks (never povo students, so don’t fret), then disappearing into the night after throwing some banter his way that doesn’t stick. This, however, was not the outcome of my blind date.

I arrived at Di Lusso with my only pre-game being the fumes from my fresh coat of nail polish. My date was already there – unsurprisingly, considering I was late. He was clean cut with a welcoming smile that calmed my nerves. I jumped straight into the deep end ordering a Long Island Iced Tea. He followed my lead and the night spiralled out of control from there. The chat was excellent though my words may have been slurred after my second wine. My date then proceeded to speak in French to the bartender and before my eyes a beautiful bromance blossomed only to be shattered by my date’s smashing of a wine glass across the counter. Though the bartender said it was fine I could see the heartbreak in my date’s eyes as he then got “the silent treatment.”

Before we knew it our tab ran out. Although we were both significantly sloshed we began to hassle the helpless patrons of Di Lusso in hopes of getting more free drinks. This was not difficult with our spectacular drunken banter and an egotistical, rich, district attorney asshole. We then had acquired enough free drinks to pash in front of a stranger (who we learnt was a dean at Seattle University) who requested it. Our night followed with being outstandingly drunk at the Robbie Burns.

I was past the point of making any decent conversation with anyone who wasn’t on my level. Luckily, my date was as we sipped water then disappeared back to his place before I could even verbalise any form of chat to my dear friends. He was nothing but gentlemanly as he made me a bowl of Coco Pops then proceeded to give me excellent head. Fortunately my date was sized perfectly as he hit all the right spots while having me bent over his pillow. In the morning we parted with a high five as I headed home skipping merrily past the elderly and school children in my see-through top, miniskirt and heels. It was a fantastic night that far exceeding my expectations.