Some people don’t take their appearance in this blog very well – which I totally understand – and some do. When I get an email from a name I recognise as a Blind Date participant, I do wonder which way it’s going to go.
“Just wanted to say I enjoyed your take on it a lot. Having been there myself, then reading the Guardian’s (hugely edited down version of) my write-up, I had a good chuckle at your version. And… since you posed the question: no we didn’t.
“Oh, and sadly I don’t live above a Tesco Metro, but if I had I’m sure that would have sealed the deal. One day, my friend.”
And, of course, I had to ask – was he pissed off to be in the blog?
“Don’t worry. I totally get it. You can’t put yourself forward for this sort of thing without expecting a bit of (in your case good-natured) ridicule. I loved it actually.
“There was just one comment by one of your followers that p***ed me off a bit (something about ‘a couple of basics’ – bit harsh when your write-up has been chopped down to 100-odd words by a trigger-happy subeditor) but c’est la vie.”
This is a good point. Do we forget the Guardian Blind Date duos are real people, with feelings? I do bear this in mind, believe it or not.
My view is that the Blind Date column is an interview or a “performance” , if you like, albeit one that’s been severely edited. As such, I feel it’s OK to critique it. Harsher things are said by people smarter than me about people much nicer than me. And usually for money. I am only going on what the Guardian chooses to publish – and they have signed up for that.
But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t remember that these aren’t hardened celebrities, but ordinary people like you and me who, inexplicably, want to appear in this column.
Turns out Alex and I have more in common than you might think. He continues: “I actually used to write my own dating blog but I deleted it because I was worried that it would lead me to changing my views on women, in that I’d be thinking about finding ‘great blog material’ rather than a soulmate.”
He’s got a point there. I should know.
And if you’re wondering what kind of “businessman” he is, he runs a price comparison site for getting your car fixed called www.whocanfixmycar.com. The least I can do after ripping into him is give it a plug.
“This is what double-denim-ed marketing directors do for a living,” he reveals. There was double denim? My cup runneth over.
And that’s not all. We have a double-impeccable this week as Kirsty also got in touch over Twitter to have her say! Fuck! I am going to be killed!
My first question had to be: Alex said you didn’t do it? Is this true?
“Haha! As true as my answers were bitter/snidey/ impenetrable. Yes, true.
“We kissed like a couple of idiot savants if that gives you the bite you were looking for. Enjoyed the read!”
And so should we be investing in some wedding millinery for a Kirsty and Alex reunion?
“Think Nate Silver would recommend spending your money on something more useful,” says Kirsty, “but a good time was definitely had by two clean-shirts.”
Gulp. What a cow I am. Them’s the breaks, though.
And after saying she “thoroughly enjoyed” her write-up and the blog, she was on her way, leaving us all with a bit of a lump in our throats and, I’m sure, a little guilt for being such meanies.
Can’t wait for next week’s. There will be blood.
Note: Kirsty and Alex both gave permission for their replies to appear in the blog. It’s a credit to them that they took it so well, but that doesn’t mean everybody will, nor would I expect them to. I’d like to say I have learned from this, but let’s face it I probably haven’t.