Each week, we lure two singletons to The Captain Cook Hotel, give them food and drink, 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.
Ol’ Charming
On Monday afternoon, Critic slid into my DMs asking whether I would like to go on a blind date the next day. I’ve never been one to turn down free food and a good story so I happily accepted. My flatmates and I must be in our last year of Uni because what would have previously been the perfect excuse to sink a few brews on a Tuesday, ended up with me getting steamed on the couch while the others sipped away at a pity beer so I wasn’t drinking alone. Once I was a sufficient number of flamés deep and I’d taken my lucky swig of vod I skipped out the door full of slightly drunken confidence.
I rocked up to The Cook about on time and hung out in the booth acting interested in the menu to avoid any judgmental couples glaring at this single guy taking up a whole booth by himself. Luckily before I’d memorized the whole drinks menu I was greeted by a beautiful blonde with the most genuine smile. I gained instant respect for this girl when she explained that she’d signed up for the blind date trying to break the mold of the typical exchange student and meet some New Zealanders that aren’t just kiwi hosts. I loved her sense of adventure and spontaneity.
After not being able to decide what kind of drink she wanted she resorted to asking for a “Fun drink” and giving the bar staff some creative freedom. Hours of conversing later I felt like I was beginning to know my date quite well. We ended up in a competition with the couple on the other side of the bar to be the last people to leave. Eventually, we left the bar and I decided to turn into a tipsy tour guide showing this gorgeous exchange student around the most irrelevant places in North Dunedin. We ended up at my favorite spot by the Harbor where I stole a cheeky kiss. I suggested that we should have taken a drunken skate around to which she informed me she couldn’t skate but could ripstick with the best of them. This chick just continued to surprise me.
After walking back towards her flat and saying our goodbyes I decided that we’d already had two dates in one night, why not top it off with a trip to get ice cream. We then stretched the date out a little longer and finally called it a night. In the whole night nothing seemed forced or awkward, it was just a nice date with a cool girl. I grabbed her digits and will hopefully catch up with her again some time soon.
Cinderella
Ok so I’ve heard these things are either a train wreck or an intense sexual escapade. Either way, it wasn’t too difficult to convince me to take some warm up shots to soothe the nerves. I was told to arrive late because obviously the guy would be trashed and late as well. Little did I know that I would arrive to find a perfectly punctual and very gentlemanly young man waiting for me at our table…
We chatted the entire evening away and to my glorious surprise we had a lot more in common than I could ever expect. It was so comfortable and fun getting to learn about him and he was fabulously mannered- he ordered my meal and drinks for me, held the door, held my hand, the whole shebang. We made use of our tab with adventurous surprise drinks and super nice meals, which we shared with each other lady-in-the-tramp style while playing footsie. We were practically the last people at the Cook, we got the idea that they wanted us to gtfo so they could close.
Insert phase two of the date -romantic Harbor stroll adventure! Because I am a Boston girl—born in the USA baby—I can appreciate a good Harbor walk. He was a fabulous Dunedin tour guide, and I had to thank him with a kiss by the water.
Phase three - He had walked me nearly all the way back to my flat, kissed me goodbye at least three times and then we decided; “How could we end a great date without ice cream?” We couldn’t - so it was desert time!!! Yum! Like a sweetie, he paid - who said chivalry is dead? Then, after teasing me about not getting hokey pokey, he took my hand and led me back to his place … and the rest is history. Just kidding!
Phase four - We chilled for a bit, kicking it old school style and listened to a Beatles record in “the vinyl room.” After an ideal date night, Prince Charming lead me back to my flat at 2am. If I was Cinderella, my car would’ve turned back to a pumpkin by now…but it was well worth it.
Thanks Critic!!!