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.
His
I’ve always been a big fan of the Critic blind date, and after numerous attempts of trying to get the call up, it happened. Finally, smelling like an industrial accident at a lynx factory and looking like I should be a part of the worlds shittest boy band, I set off.
After arriving fashionably early and flicking through the drinks menu countless times, my date walked in and was looking incredible. When the initial awkward conversation passed, the chat then flowed smoothly, and when she spilled that she was half Japanese half kiwi, it’s safe to say I was hooked. With the waiter giving us the inside knowledge that it was best to order wine by the bottle, we found the perfect merlot to satisfy our liquid needs.
With the chat continuing to flow, she told me how she had joined the tramping club. With the arrival of the food, as well as the second bottle of wine, I for one was getting a tad tipsy. This lead to me unfortunately spilling a glass of red over her, and with a plethora of “Ooh sorry, sorry, I’m really sorry” occurring, she just laughed it off. We then proceeded to finish off with a couple tequila shots. Dangerous.
Anyway we hooked up a few times outside, and although things were getting pretty heated, we decided to part ways. No doubt we will be crossing paths very soon, and hopefully more than just a cheeky pash will ensue.
Cheers Critic and Dog With Two Tails for the great night. 10/10 would do again.
Her
After one too many a lonely night in dunedin, it was the allure of finding a potential candidate to make the inevitable freezing nights more bearable that lead me to Dog with Two tails five minutes late on a Thursday evening.
Admittedly, I was fairly critical of the whole situation, having endured my fair share of dead-end dates in the past few months, I was half expecting to be paired with one of them. Well Critic, I’m sorry I ever doubted you, because sitting at our table was the kinda guy that you silently flirt with on public transport and then regret not introducing yourself for a solid three years following. The conversation flowed effortlessly (possibly as a result of my nervous rambling) but he was relaxed and we got on so well that it took about 20 minutes before we paused long enough to look at the menu and pick out a drink.
A bottle or two of red wine down and I was starting to feel that liquid confidence kicking in and my date was becoming increasingly attractive. It was all a pleasant hazy blur, good music, good food (turns out elephant fish isn’t as horrific as it sounds - highly recommend), and flowing conversation and wine.
But they say all good things have to come to an end. For us, this was probably when my date tipped a full glass of wine into my lap and onto my shirt. I honestly don’t blame him, in fact I’m almost relieved that I was on the receiving side because God knows I’m usually always the clumsy one. That being said, nothing sobers you up more than the knowledge that your new favourite shirt is most definitely ruined and you’re soaked to the core and feeling the cold as red wine evaporates off 60 percent of your body.
Determined to forget about the wine incident, we continued to chat and even shared a sneaky kiss at the table before heading out onto the street. I would’ve been keen to keep the night going but after hearing the far from subtle ‘come back to mine’ one too many times I found myself in (my) bed, alone the next morning with a pile of red-wine-soaked clothes at the foot of my bed as a memory of the previous nights antics.
Thank you Critic and Dog with Two Tails. While the single life continues, all in all I had a memorable night and can finally cross this one off the bucket list.