The hopeful lovers on the Critic Blind Date are provided with a meal and a bar tab, thanks to Ombrellos and Cello.
If you’re looking for love and want to give the Blind Date a go, email critic@critic.co.nz
Sally
After a four-month dry spell my standards have never been lower, so this date was probably always going to go pretty well.
When I got there I was pleasantly surprised to find that my newly expanded standards for a partner would not be required, as my date was quite a looker. I think he might have lifted me up for a keg stand when he was a leader at my Law Camp, but by the time I remembered it would have been weird to ask.
With the courage of my good pal Jose Cuervo fuelling the conversation, we got to talking and in less than two minutes it had already turned sexual, as we started playing a weird two person game of Never Have I Ever. He’d never gotten a blowjob, poor boy.
Over a delightful meal we played a bit of footsie. He drank Tuatara, I drank gin.
After three of those it was clear this was going somewhere. More specifically, back to his flat. Unfortunately, I made a dick of myself by tripping on the footpath just as we left, but he was a perfect gentleman, picked me up and piggybacked me the whole way back to his.
I gave him a kiss on the cheek and said goodnight.
Just kidding. We made out in a disgusting public spot on his driveway, fell through the door and into his room, clothes came off, and I sunk to my knees to give him something he’d never had before….
Harry
I got the email that I had ben selected for the blind date on Wednesday, and spent the whole next day nervously stressing about it. As the only guy in my flat, I had all the girls fuss over me to make sure I was looking sharp (not sure the face mask was necessary tbh), then I shotgunned some Park Lanes and headed out the door.
I waited probably 10 minutes before she showed up (rude), but it was worth the wait. She was a ball of energy and to be honest she was definitely the one spurring the conversation because I was still nervous as shit. The beer helped though.
There was one point where I made an incredibly bad joke that got a massively over the top laugh from her. That’s about when I realised it was going well and I might have a shot. Also, she started rubbing my dick with her foot.
I invited her back to my place to watch a movie, which she accepted. She then proceeded to twist her ankle, which for a second I thought she may have been faking because she regretting coming home with me. I was being paranoid though, she asked me to carry her the rest of the way.
We didn’t end up watching a movie. Unfortunately, the alternative activities she had in store for me were a bit too exciting for my young mind and got cut a bit short. I made it up to her in the morning though.