Jo Thornely recaps First Dates episode 1

For example:

THE DATE WHERE SHE’S WAITING TO ASK YOU ABOUT YOUR PENIS

When the vivacious Lisa wants to tell you about herself, she phrases the information like somebody else said it.

“I get called a MILF”, she says, clearly agreeing. “I get told that I’m sexy”, she adds, clearly agreeing. But in case you start to think she’s shallow, know that there’s more to Lisa than just people telling her she’s hot. She is also singularly focused on finding a man with well-proportioned genitals.

“Yeah, no little cocktail frankfurters thanks very much!” says Lisa, not to the waiter.

Luckily, her date tonight is ex-army personal trainer dude Ryan, who tells us “I’m the full package, and I’ve got a good weapon down below”.

Of course, if he’d just told Lisa that fact from the start, they could have hopped it to a hotel on the spot, but instead we have to sit through half an hour of non-penis related chitchat.

They tell each other they have nice teeth.

They tell each other they both split from their partners four years ago.

They talk about pets, and discover that they have rhyming cats — hers is named Minx, his Jinx. No way, yes way, oh my God, etc.

Eventually they steer the conversation towards the large, bulging elephant in the room — him by mentioning a really big, black horse he’s seen, and her by doing an impression of her cat sucking on her dressing gown.

By the time dessert arrives, Lisa bites the bullet and says “Are you sure that there’s like, no faults with you? Like should I worry that you’ve got a small package?”.

Ryan laughs.

“No” he says. “You should definitely not worry about that”.

After establishing that they both have acceptable nipples, Lisa and Ryan agree to a second date and head off, presumably to introduce Minx to Jinx. The second date will be in about fifteen minutes, and the third one about an hour after that.

THE DATE WITH TERRIBLE JOKES JUST LIKE MUM USED TO MAKE

Shadi and Natalie are both Lebanese, both nice-looking, both personable, and being unmarried, both a disappointment to their families. Additionally, they both tell jokes that strain uncomfortably against the commonly accepted definition of “jokes”.

Shadi, a chicken deliverer whose mother still buys him underwear, thinks that a great opening line is “Is your surname ‘internet’? Because I’m feeling such a strong connection”.

Natalie, a scientist, prefers the mirthful stylings of “Can I have your number? I lost mine”, which science proves is not a good joke.

Let’s just check, pictorially, to see how the date’s going at this point.

There’s a strong whiff of disaster in the air when Shadi calls his mum from the toilet, but she tells him to relax and keep things natural. Good advice. I would totally let Shadi’s mum buy me underwear.

Relaxing and keeping things natural, Shadi opens up about the fact that he’s been married before. For 44 days. As he points out, that’s even shorter than Kim Kardashian’s marriage, a record previously held only by ripe avocados and Mal Meninga’s political career.

Let’s just check, pictorially, to see how the date’s going at this point.

Suddenly, just when we think things might turn out okay, disaster strikes when the waiter puts a banana on the table.

Natalie is instantly flustered, but ever the gentleman, Shadi tells her the banana reminds him of “an overgrown sweet corn”.

So like. Corn.

The only thing more awkward than this is Awkward Question Time, when Shadi expresses a strong desire for a second date, while Natalie just displays a mid-level desire for hummus.

Nothing for it but to move on to:

THE DATE THAT KINDERGARTEN FORETOLD

Meet Tonee. Tonee wants a boyfriend so that she doesn’t have to hang out with her mum. Tonee has missed the memo about ‘having friends’.

Tonee only has two criteria when it comes to boyfriends: facial hair and musical ability.

Meet bass player and barber Jake.

Before continuing on to a date full of even loftier heights of scintillating insights and highbrow conversation, Tonee and Jake first establish that they both went to the same primary school.

I definitely lied about the scintillating insights and highbrow conversation, and the couple talks almost exclusively about the fact that they both went to the same primary school. Sure, they detour briefly with the fact that his moustache is crooked and that they both tick the “Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander” box when they’re filling out forms, but basically this entire relationship is based on an educationally mutual postcode.

Meh, relationships have been based on less. Go kiss behind the weathershed with our blessing, kids.

Which just leaves us with:

THE DATE WHERE BRIDGET JONES AND USHER HATE INDIAN FOOD

Look, there’s a lot going on with Roxy. She’s an enigma wrapped in a riddle wrapped in orange lace.

The most important establishing fact about Roxy is that her mother hands out this card, with Roxy’s picture and the phrase “single and ready to mingle” on it, to any single men she meets:

Roxy tells people she’s “the Bridget Jones of Australia”, despite zero similarities.

Roxy’s last date told her she wasn’t pretty enough and that she talks too much. She tells two people this story within ten minutes, so the talking thing may have been on point.

Roxy has been on fifty dates and paid for all of them, a point she brings up eighteen or nineteen times to ensure that this dinner definitely gets paid for.

Roxy tells us her celebrity crush is Usher, signalling that it’s time to meet her date, Aarun. Aarun claims to have been mistaken for Usher in the past.

Aarun is an extremely nice nurse who has no chance of being more fascinating than his date.

Roxy, a nanny, gives Aarun a card that a little girl she looks after made. It says “Please love Roxy”, and includes a picture of a partially dismembered corpse.

When Roxy asks Aarun where he’s from and he tells her he’s Sri Lankan, she sheepishly admits that she doesn’t like Indian food. Or geographical accuracy. Without even blinking, Aarun assures her that he doesn’t like Indian food either. He also doesn’t like being added to Roxy’s list of complaints, so to her delight, he offers to pay for dinner.

Seemingly keen to add more chapters to her book about nannies dating, ultimately Roxy rejects Aarun, then cries because she feels mean.

“To reject someone is the hardest task I’ve ever had to deal with”, she sobs.

Oh, honey. He’ll be fine. Your mother hands out photos of you to strangers. Cry about that.

Jo Thornely doesn’t get enough attention at her day job, so she writes for various outlets, takes up way too much bandwidth on the internet, and loves it when you explain her jokes back to her on Twitter. Follow her @JoThornely

Originally published as First Dates: ‘I often get told that I’m sexy’