Sometimes to work out what happened on a date, all you need to do is look at the photo. I don’t know whether the shoot happens afterward, or the photographers gets them to do a variety of poses which include “mardy” and “when will this hell end?”, but sometimes the main image sums everything up perfectly. Anyway, to business:
If you were to take Daniel’s comments in isolation, you’d be forgiven for thinking that he is flinging some serious shade his date’s way. The pair went to Lanes of London, which is an incredibly posh place you would take your granny for afternoon tea. Nathalie – no word on whether she’s French or just has parents who fancied making life difficult for her at school – ate chips with her hands. In Mayfair. So subversive. Either way, he avoided “impeccable”, so full marks to Daniel.
Nathalie’s dreary answer of “perfect” is a crushing disappointment, made all the more bland when compared with her fantastic awkward moments answer. I’m not sure how or why they got around to talking about biological clocks on a first date in a snootsville restaurant in one of the richest parts of London, but you can practically feel Daniel’s panic fizz off the page. Poor Nathalie was so exhausted from talking her date down from the ceiling that she forgot what his table manners were even like.
While essentially they got on, some marvellous buzzwords like “opinionated”, “Hollyoaks”, “sarcastic” suggest Daniel felt Nathalie wasn’t for him.
Nathalie’s zinger at the end pretty much confirms it. When asked “Would you meet again?”, she throws back: “By accident”. Ouch.