Angela and Phil

I will be very honest with you, I am a little too browned off about Maggie Smith dying to be of much use to anyone this morning but then I thought what better tribute to an icon and a legend than to lightly savage two strangers who deigned to apply to be in a magazine column? And then I read the date and it was really nice and I thought ‘oh’ – but it won’t stop me.

Latest cabs off the rank are Angela, 40, who is an English teacher – and probably the kind whose students are all insanely protective of her and follow her around all day – and Phil, 52, a designer and campaigner, which I take to mean he’s in charge of the lettering on the placards, no idea. Read the full version of the date on the Guardian website and then return here for the director’s cut.

Angela | Phil

What were you hoping for?
A fun, chatty evening with good vibes and no awkwardness.

All the cliches, plus the perfect mix of fun and serious chat.

What *is* the perfect mix of fun and serious chat? How do you tell when you’re reaching an imbalance? As the horrified faces of people I talk to will attest, I have no idea. If I am stuck in a serious situation for too long, I start to get a terrible itch for something comedic to happen – which is why I always carry a banana skin in my back pocket (hanky code meaning: I like bananas) so I can chuck it to the ground at will and send someone tumbling.

First impressions?
A decent, calm, sweet man with lots of layers.

Phil is half-lasagne on his mother’s side. (This is an overall impression, not a first one – Angela, hand in your teacher badge.)

First impressions?
Very attractive and a huge smile.

Ooooh straight in with the ‘attractive’. What a strange word that is. I have never thought about that until today. It’s an appreciative, if non-committal adjective, isn’t it? You might say it about a person, or a feature wall, but never about a genuine Royal Doulton figurine of Liz Truss tanking the economy (in which she is holding a phone upside down and texting on a remote control).

What did you talk about?
Everything. I asked him why he chose to go on a blind date. We talked about past relationships, too, but nothing deep or awkward. I felt very comfortable.

Mainly the food, but all kinds of things.

Everything all kind of things. I will accept that as a match ✅

Why he chose to go on a blind date. Why indeed. I have often wondered how stagnant the dating pool must be to tempt you within the hallowed pages of the Saturday mag and, if you’re extra unlucky, on my laptop. Maybe they want a nice photo, a free meal, or are lonely, or have run out of stories to tell down the pub.

Mainly the food.

I always think this is a bad sign. On a date with food (the worst kind, tbh, I really don’t want to be confronted by someone’s soup-soaked uvula when meeting for the first time), the grub itself should act as icebreaker, but not be the main topic of conversation. It’s a bit like being on a romantic train journey – from Gospel Oak to Barking, perhaps – and only pointing at what you can see through the window rather than getting to know each other.

Best thing about Phil?
Phil has a lot of soul and he is easy to talk to. He smelt good, too.

As regular readers will know, I love being told I smell good and my biggest fear – other than a snake falling on me from the ceiling and somehow waking up to find I’m actually James Corden – is to smell like laundry that wasn’t taken out of the washing machine quickly enough. Aside from BO, can there be more of a giveaway that you are a dozy slob than that telltale mélange of mould, dishcloths and wet rubber? Anyway, Phil smelt like angels and was a breeze to chat to so we should all be very grateful on Angela’s behalf.

Best thing about Angela?
Angela has a magnetic personality. She actually swapped socials with an American couple on the next table.

I love this for Ange, but I would worry about my conversational skills if my date started asking for ‘handles’ (hello, I am 76) from diners on adjacent tables. I wish I were magnetic, or had other positive metallic qualities. I’m more like a fridge dumped in the corner of a car park – rusting, toxic, and a rude joke I was going to make but thought better of.

Would you introduce Phil to your friends?
For sure, because he is nice and easygoing and has very soulful eyes.

Would you introduce Angela to your friends?
Sure, she’s welcome to come and meet my friends.

Describe Phil in three words.
Gentle, sweet and unique.

GENTLE, like the breeze on a spring morning, like a feather tumbling from a pigeon’s ass-crack and landing squarely in your soufflé, like a dusting of snow on Christmas morning as you stub out your first fag of the day into a squished toffee deluxe.
SWEET, like an Angel Delight flavour you remember enjoying as a child and, wracked by nostalgia and longing for comfort as you’re made redundant by whichever media company you work for – which has made record profits but has decided to axe staff anyway – you buy as an adult and realise it is just pure sugar and probably earwax in a plastic pot that will sit on a landfill for the next thousand years.
UNIQUE, like what they call Uniqlo in France. Maybe. No Idea.

Describe Angela in three words.
Outgoing, vivacious and passionate.

OUTGOING, like the opposite of INSTAYING.
VIVACIOUS, like that auntie who wears a sparkly jumper-blouse hybrid (usually with a palm tree on it or reversible sequins that spell out C * N T when you brush them upwards) and is always the best fun at family parties UNTIL a cousin who doesn’t know her very well or understand her ‘history’ puts on ‘Think Twice’ by Céline Dion and suddenly she’s got the electric carving knife out of the cupboard where all the dead phone chargers and old Tamagotchis are and she’s driving to Nuneaton where her ex, Steve, lives with her former best friend Kelly.
PASSIONATE, like Steve and Kelly’s affair back in 2001.

What do you think they made of you?
I have no idea, but if I had to guess, I’d say confident, lively and sexy.

She probably thought I was quiet.

I want to bottle Angela’s confidence and drink the lot before going on stage at the Henley Literary Festival next Saturday 5 October with Cesca Major and Nikki May. (It’s FREE and tickets come with a free glass of wine!!) Tickets available here.

If Angela were my English teacher, I just know I would’ve been an adoring fan.

(Phil’s comment feels quite loaded but I don’t want to put words in his mouth.)

And … did you kiss?
We had a few polite kisses, but nothing more and that was enough. It felt right and comfortable.

Mid-meal, Angela excused herself to go to the powder room, walked past me, pointed to her mouth and said “kiss”. So, unexpectedly early – yes – and then when we said goodbye at the station.

Angela is not f•cking about here, I love it.

If you could change one thing about the evening what would it be?
The opportunity to spend more time in his company – and to go out dancing after the dinner.

The food was the focus of the night – I think we could have connected more.

See? The food got in the way a bit. And poor Angela never got to show her dance floor moves. Shame.

Marks out of 10?
10.

A 10 being the perfect night, I’d give the night a 7. Angela was a fascinating person to sit opposite.

Angela’s 10 was pretty exciting but… then Phil comes out with a… wtf? Not only that but he even TEASES a 10 with his opening line, only to knock three points off! I am SHOCKED.

Would you meet again?
Yes. We laughed a lot. It would be great to go out with him again.

Angela is welcome in Liverpool any time.

Hmmmm. Best be making that more of a solid invitation if you want to impress Angela (and me), Phil. Otherwise it sounds like a no overloaded by mayonnaise to mask the flavour. Angela – maybe your dancing shoes should be heading for a disco closer to home.

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Something to remember about the review and the daters that I put at the end of every post

The comments I make are based on answers given by participants. The Guardian chooses what to publish and usually edits answers to make the column work better on the page. Most things I say are riffing on the answers given and not judgements about the daters themselves, so please be kind to them in comments, replies, and generally on social media. Daters are under no obligation to get along for our benefit, or explain why they do, or don’t, want to see each other again, so please try not to speculate or fill our feeds with hate. If you’re one of the daters, get in touch if you want to give me your side of the story. SEVEN? 

Angela and Phil ate at Gunpowder Soho, London W1D. Fancy a blind date? Email blind.date@theguardian.com

RIP Dame Maggie Smith. The only person who cared less about Downton Abbey than I did. Icon.