I was an extra on Channel 4’s First Dates

I was prepared, until recently, to spend my Valentine’s Day this year like I have every year: lying in bed hungover, festering in a pool of my own filth. A truly romantic image of the 20-something heart throb in his natural habitat. That was until I discovered my flatmates had stitched me up and, unbeknown to me, signed me up as an extra in Channels 4’s First Dates.

This came as quite the shock when I found myself being rung by the producer one Saturday morning in the aforementioned habitual position, being asked if I was still up for going on the show and if I was free to go on a date in two hours’ time. I’m sad to say it wasn’t hard to be available immediately on a Saturday afternoon. I agreed, after having told the guy that “no, I haven’t ever sexually assaulted anyone” and that “my type” was “female, blonde/brunette, 20-24”: basically, anything with a pulse.

Suited and booted, I arrived at the waiting room around the corner from the fancy restaurant below St. Paul’s Cathedral – yes, it is a real restaurant which you can just go to on days they are not filming, except you can’t, because if you are truly a student, you can’t afford it. I was a touch nervous, although considering I was still unwashed and in bed not two hours before, I hardly had time to actually collect my thoughts.

It’s not like I needed the help

Memories x

It’s fitting then that the first meal of the day for me was a lager, provided courtesy of the production team. And when I mean one, I mean at least two. So I stagger into the restaurant, greeted by the much-loved Maître D’, Fred Sireix, who told me my date had arrived and she was a bit nervous. No worries I thought, nothing calms someone’s nerves like being greeted by an intoxicated stranger and having to eat with them for a couple of hours. This is where I’m supposed to tell you it was love at first sight. But alas, the conversation was dry and dull. The girl who shall remain nameless (I forgot her name shortly after the event) was a graduate working in architecture, I’m a languages undergrad: just a mere boy, I can’t keep up with someone who has a real job.

I think we knew almost immediately it just wasn’t go to be one of those dates you see on the show, but we didn’t let that stop us from enjoying a perfectly civil afternoon which culminated in champagne and fruit sorbet. Not as exciting as a snog in the back of the cab afterwards, but my lunch would probably have been cereal had I not been there. When it came to the bill, we didn’t even have the “who will pay conversation” which says a lot about the afternoon. The production team gives every diner £25 in cash before going into the restaurant towards the meal and it is your choice whether you split or pay for it in total.

Fred cried out his trademark “don’t be naughty” as we left: no chance of that I thought to myself. Finally I thought I had escaped what had been a mediocre date, only to find we were both getting the Tube in the same direction. Great. Looks like I’ll be spending Valentine’s Day alone after all.