I Met Someone on the Weekend



On Thursday I received a txt message that was rather unexpected. It was an invitation to a singles dinner event for this past weekend. I had long forgotten about this company and unsubscribed from their emails thinking I’d never bother with them again after my first dodgy dinner back in May last year.

I knew my membership was expiring in February, so this would be my last chance to go to an event and try and get some value out of my $500ish membership fee. I had a rare weekend ahead where I wasn’t that busy with uni, so I booked in and headed off on the Saturday night to a Lebanese restaurant to meet some men! 

So the basic premise of these things is that 3 girls and 3 guys turn up at a restaurant asking for a table booked under a certain name and you are then led to the table by a waitress as you obviously have NFI at that point what your fellow diners look like.

When I arrived, I heard the person in front of me ask for our table, so I join them and we are led to a corner booth-like table at the back of the restaurant where the 4 others are already seated. 

Conversation starts and within about 3 minutes I have decided that almost everyone at the table are rather intellectually un-stimulating. Oh crap, this will be a long dinner…. should I fake gastro and go home now?!?

One fellow diner shows some early promise though, but I’m stuck on the complete other side of the table to them.   

We order the banquet and being Lebanese food, I’m paranoid about getting greenery in my teeth well before any food hits the table. Honestly, could there have been a worse first date cuisine choice?!? Parsley, parsley and more parsley. Fuck you tabouli! And far too much communal food touching for my germ-a-phob liking….

Anyhoo as the night progresses I strike up some good conversation with the intelligent one, speaking across the table whilst the others talk about buttons, or something equally complex…

We discover that we are both foodies, don’t have kids, like tragic retro concerts, travel, nice cars. Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick!!

We get talking about their business and it turns out that they work in a similar field as me and I want to know more, but then a belly dancer turns up and distracts us from the conversations (particularly the men…)

I sieze this opportunity to head to the bathroom to check that there isn’t a small forrest in my teeth and when I return I casually (yeh right) suggest that we mix up the seating arrangement and I join the intelligent one. 

Not long after, the belly dancer retires and we realise that we have all finished eating, finished our drinks and the buttons conversation has run its course.  We pay the bill and walk out the front of the restaurant to say our goodbyes. 

I fake that it was nice to meet the idiots and we all start talking about where we have parked. Almost everyone is parked down the street, but I’ve parked up the street and the intelligent one says that they too are up that way, so we’ll walk together. Sweeeeeeet….. 

We head off and have a good chuckle debriefing about some of the ridiculous and idiotic comments of the night. We get to my car and it turns out that the intelligent one actually didn’t drive, they caught a cab there but wanted to walk with me to ask me if I wanted to catch up again. 

When you book into these dinners, they tell you that to avoid awkwardness you shouldn’t ask this, or ask for phone numbers etc, but rather tell the organiser on Monday if you want to exchange contact details and if you both say yes, they will facilitate it. Inefficient!

We exchange numbers and discuss maybe catching up next weekend sometime as we are both pretty busy during the week ahead. 

I jump in the car and head home. Not a bad night all in all! 

It’s just a shame the intelligent one was one of the girls….. 

Oh well, one can never have too many Wingwomen right?!?

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