Andy and Flo
As a companion to their popular – well, I like it anyway – Blind Date series, the Guardian has launched Watch Me Date, a televisual feast that lets you, well, watch two people go on a date.
Each hapless romantic, or freeloader on a wine recharge, is kitted out with a pair of Google Glass, er, glasses. And we get to see what happens. It’s bit like gonzo porn except there’s more sweating.
For reasons best known to themselves, out of the two Watch Me Date videos, the Guardian has chosen to put Andy & Flo’s date in the magazine. It was, without question, the most boring of the two. Perhaps they thought readers wouldn’t believe Sarah and Ian’s date if they saw it written down. It was quite something. You should read that one.
Anyway, Andy & Flo is what we’ve got so let’s go. Read what happened on the date first, if you can bear it.
Andy’s a stand-up comic/supervisor (not at the same time, as we will see later) and Flo works for a recipe-kit company, which sounds totally made up.
WordPress is an old dog so I cannot embed the video, so please do watch along as I deliver my verdict.
The whole thing is generally on the awks side of romantic. Andy beats himself up over use of the word “welcoming” and Flo can’t seem to get beyond three syllables without dissolving into bantzy laughter.
Andy’s revelation that he temporarily became a vegetarian because of Morrissey (about 1:00 in) isn’t all that embarrassing – I started drinking Earl Grey at 12 because I read Madonna had some in her dressing room or something. Or was it because I used to be a precocious brat? I can’t remember.
When we get to what our pair are hoping for, they’re on similar lines, Andy is after a girl that likes to have a laugh and is into music and film, someone quite creative. I assume he doesn’t mean *all* music, because some people like Black Lace and Crazy Frog and you can’t be having that.
Flo is also up for someone who likes a laugh. Where are the people who go on a date and actively seek out someone who is dour and miserable, who will laugh at none of your jokes and instead plan their funeral as you awkwardly broach the subject of dessert? They’re missing out on a niche, there.
“It’s weird meeting a stranger for the first time,” says Flo. Erm. That’s usually how meeting a stranger works, Flo. That’s why they’re strangers.
Andy says he is usually a rebound kind of guy. “So many times, I have been the person after the person,” he chirps. Poor Andy. Maybe he should stop wearing rubber trousers. (Note: Andy actually got in touch with me on Twitter to question this comment. I explained the ‘joke’ but he wasn’t impressed. Ah well, it seemed like a good idea at the time – much like going on this date must have done to Andy, eh?)
Andy orders a cocktail that is made of beetroot and looks like toilet cleaner and – shock, horror – doesn’t like it. He has a taste of Flo’s and prefers hers. “It’s so delicious, isn’t it?” grins Flo. She’s heartless. I like it. “I’d be really disappointed if I chose that,” continues Flo. Is this… an analogy? Again, poor Andy.
Andy thinks he’s dropped a clanger when Flo asks him to re-enacts his day job as a call centre supervisor. He does, and it’s a bit rubbish, but Flo actually admires him for having a go, saying it’s “the best thing about him”. Aw. And also: what?
I won’t give away the scoring – it’s pretty safe, anyway – but Flo does say “he’s a catch”, which is usually the kiss of death. After a LOT of awkward laughing that probably got Flo sent out of many maths lessons by exasperated teachers, she does eventually say she’d like to see him again. So awkward. Why? Admit you like someone; it’s fine. Nobody’s watching this anyway. Except me and the other people who are going to be on it. For now.
Anyway, they both seem very nice or whatever but you don’t need me to tell you that – you can just watch them instead. (Have a can of Red Bull handy.)
Photograph: James Drew Turner for the Guardian
