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

Jeff Goldblum

With great penis comes great responsibility. None of you are here looking for a love story of how I have met my ‘The One’. So let me cut the chase and go straight into the beef. 

It started off like any blind date. But the way we were looking at each other all night, all the flirting, the teasing – everything was boiling over in a moment of sheer lust. I found my courage, and finally told her, “Daddy’s home”. I started licking her from top to bottom. Intoxicated by her taste, her warmth, wanting more with every lick. Feeling her soft touch up against my face as I got more and more aroused. I switched gear and starting tracing small circles. I went faster and faster, until she squirted out her sinful juice. She was finally finished, and me oh my, was that not the best piece of steak I have eaten.

But the girl. Damn! You are burning my soul. I was a strong believer in ‘Love At First Sight’, but you were not a believer in ‘Bang On First Night’. Lifting me all the way up, only to bring me crashing back down. We could’ve had something good. I have the personality, you have the looks. The World would’ve trembled before us. Alas we are cursed to float on this massive pool of swirling chaos; Unmoved. Untouched. 

Ellie Sattler

I rocked up pleasantly buzzed and a bit early. A feeling of relief flowed through me when my date arrived. He was cute and definitely not a Breatha. The chat and bants started off strong. If only I knew what was to come.

It began when my date asked me to fill out a survey for his degree. I politely agreed. It wasn’t a survey but the contact adding page, and I didn’t know how to refuse, so I added my number anyway. 

After dinner we ventured to Maccas for McFlurries, and on the way he asked me to hold something. I agreed, I was drunk. I thought it was his keys. It wasn’t his keys. It was his hand. There was no polite escape, so I waited until he let go about 5 minutes later.

Now, my date started dropping some very unsubtle hints about how his bed was “so cold,” and he wished he had a girlfriend. So naturally I offered some killer advice – invest in a hot water bottle and blankets. He didn’t get the hint.

When we got to Maccas, ALL of his flatmates rocked up and came to sit with us, which was INCREDIBLY weird, especially when they asked how the date was going. Finally, I brought up my 8am lecture the next day and said I had to go home. 

When we got to my flat, my date informed me that we “hadn’t touched lips yet”. My very soul cringed, and I informed him I had a “no kissing on the first date” rule (it was new as of then). He persisted, saying rules are meant to be broken. I gave him an awkward hug and made a mad dash for the door. 

Thanks Critic and Ombrellos for some amazing free food!