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.
Kylie
Millionaire still drinking the shit wine
I came in hot. So hot I hit the doorframe of Di Lusso as I entered, giving myself a nasty bruise and shaking up the old nerves a bit. Fortunately, my date was yet to arrive, so — fuelled with some remaining Fat Bird confidence — I headed over to the corner couch with the mood lighting, and (unsuccessfully) tried to seem halfway seductive.
In walked my date. This guy was a definite looker, and we quickly hit it off — the topics escalating into favourite sex positions, life ambitions and my first-year “experimental phase”. He was a sophisticated fifth year and thought he could “teach me a few things”, so with half the food platter and a few more wines down, we chucked back a final shot each to dry up the bar tab. At this point, things all become a little bit blurry.
Neither of us was ready to go home just yet though, so we headed to the casino. My date proved to have luck on his side, quickly raking in the blackjack winnings. I, on the other hand, lost 20 bucks and was nearly kicked out for using my phone at the tables. This had quite the sobering effect, so we decided to ditch and go back to his flat.
On arrival at the flat, he put a Spotify mood playlist on loud, which had my clothes on the floor in no time. I don’t kiss and tell, Critic, so I won’t go into details, but I had a great time. Waking up a little dusty in the morning, I rushed off to a cute brunch debrief with my friends, and it was only on arrival at Nova that I realised my stick-on bra was still on his floor. Last night’s attire of a backless top minus my chicken fillets proved far less than ideal. Regrets, Critic, regrets.
Ultimately, though, cheers for the fun night! I’m doing okay minus my bra and my dignity, and that’s one more tick off the bucket list. √
Tyga
#noragrets
After constantly getting nagged and pressured by all flatmates to go on the blind date, I finally gave in and decided it was about time my little general got a chance to see the light of day. It rolled round to 6.30 so I decided to get a few drinks in me and play a bit of beer pong before heading off on my journey. I made sure I arrived 10 minutes late so I didn’t have to wait around and overthink how the date was going to go. When I arrived, she was there waiting on the couches in the corner and, by God, was she gorgeous. That cute smile and those big brown eyes had me singing Van Morrison. Butterflies were in my stomach, but I wasn’t sure whether it was me being nervous or how good she looked.
She was a smooth talker and had me on my toes all night. The conversation was flowing so much that the bartender had to approach us and ask if we wanted any drinks, instead of the other way round. I was impressed she recognised that getting wines instead of cocktails meant that the bar tab could go further. The CC’n’Drys were top notch, but what I really had on my mind was one of those tasty Cokes at the casino. She was keen as well, so we made our way there. Let’s just say any money she lost I made up, so I guess I was playing my cards right. Blackjack was good to me, but the real gamble was if we were going to end up together.
It looked like my luck was going to continue as I decided to give her a tour of the flat. She was really impressed with my room and my choices of decoration; I’m a man who knows what he likes. Her late night skills were as quality as her banter. I was left extremely satisfied. After recapping with the flat, I was pleased to see she left me a souvenir to commemorate the times we had together.
We added each other on Facebook and said we would talk about the write up. I wouldn’t mind seeing her again, but may have ruined my chances when accidentally liking one of her historic photos on Facebook the next day. Don’t drink and Facebook.
This was my last opportunity to do the blind date and I’m glad I did it.