Brian and Jeanette

Funny old thing, love. We spend our lives looking for it, or avoiding it, or claiming to be incapable of it. It frightens us; it fascinates; it can result in fucking, or crying, or hating, or yearning. Sometimes it’s a chain binding you together, sometimes it’s a one-way mirror, sometimes it’s an energy.

One thing is certain – you’re as likely to find love in the Guardian Blind Date as you are tits on a tomcat. Today’s eating of the pudding comes from Brian, who is a 53-year-old property management director – lead vampire in a letting agent coven, basically – and Jeanette, 46, who works in investor relations and occasionally models. WHAT a bio.

Read the full date on the Guardian website and then return here for what amounts to the last ten seconds of a bullfight that has gone horribly, horribly wrong.

Brian | Jeanette

What were you hoping for?
At worst, a free meal and an enjoyable conversation. At best, the start of a journey …

It is certainly a journey all right. Not so much a gentle skip down lovers’ lane but that hot summer day when the Elizabeth Line stopped working and all the men trapped on the train started pissing in one corner.

What were you hoping for?
A financially stable professional who could match my international experience and intellectual curiosity.

I feel compelled to offer a spoiler here: Jeanette is German. I can hear the pennies dropping from here.

I too am intellectually curious: I spent my childhood reading the back of cereal packets – shout out to my OG riboflavin – and I use the word ‘malevolent’ more than is normal in the 21st century

First impressions?
Excellent. Jeanette is lovely: very warm, friendly and easy to talk to.

This all seems to be going so well! How lovely. Except… So, you know those Blind Dates where you’re like ‘Are these two on the same date?’ This is a bit like that, except spiritually one of them is sitting in the restaurant and the other one is communicating through an Alexa in a kebab shop three streets away.

First impressions?
He made me think of that famous line of Lefty in Donnie Brasco: “That’s a beautiful thing, but it’s not my thing.”

I haven’t seen Donnie Brasco, but I’m assuming this is Polite Rejection speak for ‘Absolutely not’.

What did you talk about?
Living and working abroad, Parisians being unfriendly, office banter and the fact that the best-looking people hang around in gay bars.

We talked about work and travel, which I enjoyed until he said he was sad he was missing accordion practice for our date.

Living and working abroad/work and travel ✅ – How can you tell someone lived in Liechtenstein for three months in the summer of 1997? They’ll tell you before your glutes hit the chair.

Unfriendly Parisians – That Parisians don’t care whether you live or die is one of my favourite things about them. Accusations of regional unfriendliness are almost always unfounded. Take it from someone who comes from the north – there are just as many miserable monosyllabic mofos up there as there are ‘down here’.

Office banter – Ah the traditional ‘you up in court today?!? Hahahahahahaha’ when you dress even remotely smartly. ‘Working hard or hardly working?’ ‘I’m afraid we’re going to have to let you go after that incident at the mix and mingle.’ My hatred for offices runs deeper than the Molloy Hole.

The best-looking people hang around in gay bars – *takes balls-deep drag of a Superkings and examines the dirt under a yellowing cocaine fingernail* If you say so.

Sad he was missing accordion practice – Yeah when you read this whole date you’d be sad you missed weeing out kidney stones, never mind accordion practice.

Most awkward moment?
She shared some forthright views about a few of the bars she has been to in Belfast.

Most awkward moment?
He called me a weakling for wanting to wear a wetsuit in freezing Lough Neagh.

There is too much happening in these answers for me to comment on, I’m sorry. (The date is taking place in Belfast, btw – just in case you were wondering.)

Good table manners?
Impeccable. Nothing bad to report here.

I am willing to bet Jeanette’s table manners were indeed exemplary. I imagine she ate her meal telepathically.

Good table manners?
He said he hadn’t touched alcohol since Christmas and then downed four wines.

Can you imagine trying to chew a steak in front of Jeanette? I’d be a nervous wreck. I’d be stretchered out before the dessert menu arrived. ‘Can you bring me an absinthe? I’ve a bit of gristle I’m trying to get through here.’

Best thing about Jeanette?
She is unapologetic in her views.

Okay, so at first I thought Brian was maybe delusional and just had the Magic Roundabout theme tune permanently playing in his head, but perhaps his body has released a special hormone to help him deal with situations like this. Named Diplomatocin, this hormone forces you to find the most positive thing you can say in a tricky moment that won’t be an obvious dig. There is no other explanation.

Best thing about Brian?
He was clearly spoken and educated.

‘I could understand what he was saying and when I tested him on the periodic table as a prerequisite for having another glass of wine, he scored 116/118 – he missed out “Germanium” (he mentioned “Arsenic” twice) and said “Imodium” instead of “Iridium”.

Would you introduce Jeanette to your friends?
She would liven up any social gathering.

So would a meerkat in the early stages of ebola, Brian!

Would you introduce Brian to your friends?
He might occasionally struggle with the banter and quick wit.

‘And he looks like he might make too much noise putting his bins out. Plus, his attitude to Stoßlüften would not go d0wn very well.’

Describe Jeanette in three words
Funny, vegan, forthright.

FUNNY, like you remember life being, before you sat down at this table and watched your date make a note of everything you’ve had to drink.
VEGAN, like a Greggs’ vegan sausage roll, except less fun.
FORTHRIGHT, like you would love to be described in any potentially romantic situation.

Describe Brian in three words
Educated, somewhat wary, family-minded.

EDUCATED, like Marmalade Atkins.

SOMEWHAT WARY, like… that is two words, Jeanette. I can see why you had to leave Germany – your neighbours would shun you for such a flagrant breach of the rules.
FAMILY-MINDED, like Sly Stone?

What do you think Jeanette made of you?
She is German and advised me that culturally Germans are very reserved (but perhaps that was just code). She also said the Irish drink too much. Unfortunately, I think I may have reinforced that stereotype.

Look, I’m sure Jeanette is lovely and she seems brilliantly frank and sharp, but… an hour or two on the business end of Jeanette’s barbs would turn Elmo into Oliver Reed.

What do you think Brian made of you?
I think I might have confused him with my international lifestyle.

Deep cut: does anyone else remember Big Brother 2 (25 years ago) when Paul and Helen went on a date in the den and this very sweet, but incredibly vanilla, young man said with a straight face that he ‘lived the life of an international popstar’ and Helen did not – as most people would when a bloke from Reading tells you they’re Berkshire’s answer to Madonna – die laughing?

Anyway, that.

Did you go on somewhere?
No.

No, we parted ways outside.

Alexa, play ‘Shocked’ by Kylie Minogue from my Spotify.

And … did you kiss?
We opted for the classic hug goodbye.

And … did you kiss?
No.

If you could change one thing about the evening what would it be?
I would have preferred later in the week and for us to enjoy a drink together.

Actually maybe Brian is delusional.

If you could change one thing about the evening what would it be?
To meet a man I had more connection with. Guardian readers, get in touch!

I’m sure the letters will be flooding in – no greater masochist than someone who reads a centrist newspaper and comments ‘is this news?!?!?!?’ under articles about the Oscars.

Marks out of 10?
A solid 8.

6.

Would you meet again?
I cannot think of anyone better to go to gay bar karaoke with.

And I’m sure the other patrons of the bar will be thrilled to watch you sing Meat Loaf or the theme tune to ‘Allo ‘Allo or whatever.

Would you meet again?
No, our lifestyles are incompatible and he made some comments that I found were lacking in romantic interest.

Vorsprung durch get fucked, Brian, basically.

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I wrote about my dog. I have a dog now. He’s great.

My first column for Lonely Hearts Club, where I matchmake two people based only on their personal ads, is now online.

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. Tell me everything that really happened that you felt unable to say here, because I KNOW this one was horrendous.

Brian and Jeanette ate at Molly’s Yard in Belfast. Fancy a blind date? Email blind.date@theguardian.com