Her smile shrinks instantly, face pinching into something resembling disgust in a softer, more palatable ‘work friendly’ way.
‘You’re not my type,’ she says. ‘But I will get you those shots.’
I barely hold my laugh in as I wait for her to walk away. It comes out in full force once she’s gone, dribbling out of my mouth in disgustingly loud snorts.
Noah huffs. ‘It wasn’t that funny.’
‘You’re right – it was funnier,’ I say, before putting on my best mock-Noah voice. ‘“Go in direct and show them what you want...” Yeah, I won’t be doing that, thank you.’
I try to stop laughing the best I can, but every time I come close I remember all over again and a fresh set of giggles forces its way up my chest, bolder and brassier than the ones before. I thank my stars that he’s already taken it on the chin or the whole thing would come across as quite cruel. He tries his best not to smile back at me as I laugh, but I can see the corner of his lips twitching, eager to turn upwards.
I manage to settle by the time she brings us our shots, focusing every ounce of energy I have into keeping a straight face. She brings over three, offering to do one with us – I assume as a gentle act of pity. It’s nice nevertheless and the three of us crash them together before backing them in one, salt and lime be damned. I feel the warmth across my chest and the newly present burn in my throat. Then the bell rings to take our seats and the joy drains from my body.
The rules are simple – girls stay where they are, guys do all the moving around. Everyone has five minutes to talk before the bellgoes off and you have to move on. Each person has a scorecard, as well as a minute break between each session to quickly fill in said card. You submit your cards at the end and compatible matches will receive each other’s contact details in two days.
The host went over them three times, which was great because my nerves settled enough for me to actually take it in by time number three. Then the first bell rang and along came Conrad, smile stretched wide across his face as he said hello. Apparently, that’s all he’s capable of saying. Ever since I said it back, he’s been waiting for me to continue the conversation. We’re down to three minutes and fifty-five seconds.
‘So, why did you come here today?’ I ask.
‘To Salzburg? I live here,’ he replies.
I clarify. ‘To speed dating.’
‘Oh.’ He doesn’t expand any further.
I opt for a different tactic. ‘So, what would you recommend I do in Salzburg? I’m here for a week longer.’
‘That’s up to you, really,’ he says plainly.
The bell dings. I thank God.
Conrad 1/5
‘So, I’m Amorie,’ I say, as date number two sits down.
‘That’s exotic. Where are you from?’ he asks.
‘England,’ I reply.
‘No, you’re not.’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘Yeah, but you’re clearly not from thereancestrally,’ he says.
I bite my tongue and zone out, counting down the seconds until the bell rings again.
Name’s irrelevant 0/5
The third guy is at least promising: polite, good teeth and genuinely engaged. We chat about our hobbies, our upbringing and what it was like for him to grow up in Salzburg versus me in Brighton. It’s a five-minute crash course on all things each other and it’s actually rather entertaining. I scribble down his score.
Leon 5/5
Then I steal a cheeky glance at his sheet... He rated me a two.
By the eighth date I’m more than ready to wrap it up, and let out a large, audible sigh as the final bell rings.
‘Was I that bad?’ Bastian, sitting opposite me, says jokingly.
