Critic’s infamous blind-date column brings you weekly shutdowns, hilariously mis-matched pairs, and the occasional hookup. Each week, we lure two singletons to Dog With Two Tails, ply them with food and alcohol, then wait for their reports to arrive in our inbox. If this svounds 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.
Jim
In the depths of an O week hangover I received the unsolicited call up for the Critic blind date. Never wanting to turn down a bit of tucker or a beer I thought why not. The potential to meet the love of my life was just a bonus really.
And what a girl she was.
With this in mind I made my move to Dog With Two Tails. In typical student fashion I arrived early and far too sober. In hindsight this was a mistake. Finding myself surprisingly nervous I did hold myself back from breaking into the bar tab before the lovely lady’s arrival.
She was a tall, rather stunning brunette, sporting a boots-and-jeans combo. I’ll tell you there were no regrets in signing up. She looked like the sort of girl that you would take home to your parents but blow you on the way there.
The conversation flowed, as did the red wine. We talked about everything and anything. Initially beginning with your standard chat, university, summer etc. we soon were debating and solving the greater problems of the world.
She ordered a large burger – tick. I ordered a lamb salad and we quickly put away a bottle of red wine.
All in all it seemed to be going pretty swimmingly, like I said, great girl.
She suggested we head down to Mac Bar and I certainly had no complaints. We downed a couple Sambuca’s’ and entered the gin and tonic zone as one does.
Being Wednesday in the middle of O week I was sort of caught between wanting to stay and hang out and get back and enjoy a fine octane or twelve with the lads. We wound things up in due course, swapped numbers, and who knows what the future will bring.
Cheers to Critic and cheers to my date for a great start to the night.
Gertie
After being roped into the blind date by one of the flatties and enduring the endless banter about meeting the love of my life, it’s safe to say I was apprehensive and somewhat cynical about the whole encounter.
Rocking up a casual 10 minutes late and far too sober, the bar staff gave me a cheeky grin and pointed me towards my date. The introduction was sufficiently awkward, mostly due to me going in for the kiss on the cheek. He was definitely cute, tall and really friendly - nailed the first impression.
The chat flowed well and we had a shared enthusiasm for ordering the cheapest bottle of wine on offer. Tick. We covered the conversation basics; study, work, travel, summer holiday, friends in common etc., and I became increasingly loose-lipped as we powered through our wine. We had a few laughs and when the food came, it was awesome too.
After we finished up, I suggested we grab a drink or two elsewhere. He was keen and we headed to the Octy for a few more drinks and a well-timed Sambuca.
For those of you who were hoping for a modern day fairy tale ending (A.K.A. becoming heavily inebriated, then partaking in a passionate night of casual sex), you will be sadly disappointed. We managed to swap numbers while still in a state to, and then parted ways with another equally awkward kiss on the cheek.
For now, I’ll be eagerly awaiting the 2am text of “Up to?” to complete the fairy tale and make all my dreams come true. Thanks heaps to the Critic and Dog with Two Tails for shouting a fun night, and to my date for all the good yarns.