Rachael, 26, from North London, currently between jobs, hasn't had a serious
relationship for a year – she finished the
last one because because 'he started to bore me.'
She said she just wanted to have a bit of fun tonight
- think we can manage that for you, Rach.
Steve, 26, Docklands, IT consultant, he couldn't remember his last relationship
'it was years ago' (that bad, is it mate?) Said
he expecting 'a free meal' from the date –
OK, freeloader, we've got your number. Ever hopeful,
Finula embarks on another attempt to matchmake a
young couple. This time we decided not to do anything
too unusual – a trip to the London Eye had
been mooted but was cancelled due to rain and the
fact that both our male dater and our big Mary-Ellen
of a stand-in art director shared a wimpy fear of
heights (sorry, boys). So we just took our sweet
twosome for a Spanish spud omlette butty or two
and a few glasses of vino to oil the proceedings
along of course.
Soon as we got there we spotted that Asian girl who used to work at Al Frescos on Corrie – it's always good to spot a celeb, albeit a Z-list one. We had to sip a couple of aperatifs at the bar while we waited for a table. After a bit of an awkward start (our Steve was nervous, bless him), the daters were soon deep in convo and hardly ate any dinner they were so busy yacking. Not so the lifebyte blind date team – we got stuck into tortilla, patatas bravas, artichoke salad and lots of deep-fried fish of various types due to the greediness of a certain team member.
A happy evening soon passed and after exchanging pleasantries with some Dutch guys on the next table and the obligatory argument over the bill, we bailed out into the night. I was pleased to note that our daters expressed an interest in 'going on somewhere' (no wonder, I was paying). On it was then, to a rather salubrious Islington late-night watering hole known as Bar Latino – well, we had to continue the hispanic theme. Lots of vodkas and rums were sunk and some dancing was done. Then there was a wobbly moment when our Rach, who, it must be said was rather inebriated by this point, got chatted up by some guy in a stripy top who was demanding her phone number and asked for a snog – outrageous behaviour. Poor Steve looked rather perturbed at the prospect of having his new bird nicked, so Auntie Finula stepped in and sent the cheeky monkey on his way – nothing comes between my daters as you know.
Anyway, as we all said our goodbyes and fell into our various cabs, I couldn't help wondering, between hiccups, whether, this time, appearances would not be deceiving and the couple would actually like each other.
So the next day I was straight on the blower to find out. Over to you now, users - do you reckon they were into each other? (not literally, you dirty gits).
For the quick answer, click
here
Click
here for Steve's story
Click
here for Rachel's story
Click here
for Finula's final thought
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