Street Date
Love. She is a strange beast, different to all she chooses to imprison on her crazy merry-go-round. For some, she gives them their soul-mate, the one with whom we will spend the rest of our lives in a rosy fog of mistyeyed sentiment and cuddles. For others, she traps them into a cycle of demeaning and abusive relationships which have enough destructive power to fl atten Hiroshima many times over.
On top of these, there are those for whom she reserves her special treats, the long lonely evenings with only some form of cat drowning out the ticking of the biological clock, leading inexorably to a doomed late 30s panic marriage with Dave from Marketing. However, there are some of us who bravely laugh in Love’s face and, like Indriatti, just want to get laid.
With Indriatti’s stated lack of discernment in her menfolk (see right), the usually gruelling Streetdate rounds were looking decidedly less unattractive this week. However, even I in my usual insane optimism did not anticipate the ease with which we would be greeted this week.
After ambling down New Inn Hall Street, me avoiding various Peter’s folk, before whom I had humiliated myself the night before, and Indriatti barking into her phone, a fi ne young thing was seen through his ground fl oor window. Seeing his Ireland rugby shirt, I instantly had him down as a man of character, and Indriatti agreed. A few yelled questions through the window were proving impractical, so a rendezvous was agreed at the entrance to his building.
And there we waited, until James appeared, peering out from through his fl oppily Hugh Grant-esque do. At fi rst, he seemed overwhelmed by the twin assault of Indriatti’s beauty and my penetrating questions, but the lad soon relaxed as he realised that, not only would he be receiving a free meal in a fi ne restaurant, he would be doing so in the company of the equally fi ne Indriatti. Gulping with what can uncertainly be said to be nerves or anticipation, he agreed.
Here I became suspicious - the glimmer of recognition in the glances between the two suggested some past encounter, but it was not for me to question. For that is what Streetdate does - regardless of the circumstances, it brings together two lonely souls, separated by the stresses of the Oxford term and the ennui of modernity, and fl ings them into a restaurant together to salve each other’s troubles.
But how did the healing go? Was there whispering of sweet nothings, or was there something more like primal scream?
Although he proudly sports the fl owing locks and slightly baffl ed demeanour of the classic English gentleman, it is a shock to talk to James and discover the wellspring of repression and sexual anxiety within. He says he is “desperate for any action [he] can get,” a characteristic which he feels is both a strength and a weakness.
In a perhaps predictable turn, he describes his greatest turn-off as “a strong sense of morality,” which follows his belief that, “honesty would be a foolish policy,” when describing himself to a date - he sees dwelling on his, “rugged good looks and engaging sense of humour,” as little more than a deception. Somewhat concerned I had fi xed Indriatti up with a self-loathing lunatic, I nevertheless threw caution to the wind and the date was on.
For someone who is about to be pimped off to a stranger, Inriatti is oddly self-conscious, ordering, “Don’t make me look like a ho.” Describing herself as, “tall, dark, fertile and foreign,” Indriatti divides her time between her favourite sport of hockey and being a minion at the Union. She is not the picky sort, requiring only good banter with her man, along with, “a doctor’s certificate to prove he has no STDs.
Despite being far from demanding, she has not found true love at Oxford, a sad fact which she blames on one simple cause - apparently, “the lighting isn’t good enough in the Bod".
After wriggling my way out of a cruel “Am I fit?” interrogation, it was time to hit the streets – would the the lighting be good enough on an autumnal Sunday afternoon for our mighty Indriatti?
Him on her
“If I wasn’t such a dynamic, seductive conversationalist, the evening could have been awkward. However, Indriatti quickly fell under my spell, and seemed to appreciate my encyclopaedic knowledge of early modern history. As the date progressed, I became attracted to Indriatti’s warmth and honesty, until I felt an urge to have exotic sex with her. However, a glass of water soon combated such irrationality”.
LOOKS – 0.5/10
DRESS SENSE - 9.5/10
PERSONALITY - 9/10
Her on Him
“As the date progressed I fell in awe with James’ striking charisma and boundless charm. The boy drips with sex appeal and the chemistry between us was even noted by the prying South Africans on the table next to us, who kindly asked us to stop playing footsie as it was putting them off their meal.” Indriatti’s attention was certainly held, albeit only due to “a fi t guy on the table right behind him.”.
LOOKS – 11/10
DRESS SENSE - 10/10
PERSONALITY - 0/10
27th Oct 2005