Behind the scenes of my first date on First Dates

First Dates, the popular new dating show, has a simple premise: watch what happens when two people go out for the first time. For columnist Sarah Swain, it was an opportunity too good to miss.

“So … who would you like to walk through that door?” asked the barman, gesturing with his head as he polished the bar with a cloth.

“Um …. talk, dark and handsome?” I replied nervously, running my fingers around the rim of my wine glass.

Nothing strange about that.

Except the door he was referring to was actually at the end of a Big Brother-style corridor, rigged with cameras, and the barman, though an actual professional, was hired to make a bit of chat (and look hot).

You see, I’m going to appear on the biggest TV dating show since The Bachelor.

First Dates, a UK-export to Channel 7, is a reality show which sees couples paired up and sent on a first date to a restaurant.

It’s remarkably simple.

There’s no giant mansion, no helicopters and no roses.

Just a man and a woman (though they’ve done gay dates too in the UK) and dinner at a real restaurant, rigged with cameras and lighting (so much lighting — it’s like the midday sun in there — dire for a first date).

The couple are interviewed before and after the date, before being asked if they fancy each other — and a second date.

So, why on earth would I put myself on telly, especially when social media critics can be fierce?

One UK dater reckoned she was trolled so badly after appearing, she couldn’t leave the house. (People even created memes of her teeth, which were rather on the horsey side, but still ...)

What if that happened to me? I mean, I’ve always thought my nose was a bit big.

But I’ve tried most other methods of dating over the past few years, from Tinder to meeting blokes in bars, and I thought it would be rather exciting — even if I didn’t hit it off with my guy.

And I confess, I’m also a bit of a show-off. And I’m not skinny enough to go on The Bachelor.

So I applied, and the producers, Warner Brothers, were keen to get me on — and not just because I write a column called Single in Sydney every Friday for News Corp.

Multiple phone calls later — including a chat with a researcher whose questions included who my dream celebrity date would be (my mind went blank and I said Ronan Keating — it would actually be a tough choice between Daniel Craig, David Duchovny and Kiefer Sutherland), I got a call saying I was going on the show the very next day.

Because while the dates might be dinner, some are actually filmed at lunchtime.

And I panicked.

I had assumed I’d have time to get my hair done, and maybe even my make-up too.

But with a 9am call time (TV speak for what time you have to be there) it wouldn’t work. And besides, I’d been told I wasn’t allowed to do that anyway. I had to look like my normal self.

And then there was what to wear.

I have approximately 876 dresses in my wardrobe, and I had to take three choices so the producers could pick one which “co-ordinated with my date’s outfit”.

What?

Anyway. Three hours of sleep and an uber trip to the Westin Hotel later, and I discovered my barriers fall pretty quickly as I was grilled by a Welsh TV producer about boyfriends, dates and “what love is.”

(I jabbered something about “happiness” ugh).

Then I was taken to wait for my date in reception.

But something was wrong.

The big boss, executive producer Geraldine Orrock, came and sat down beside me.

“I’m really sorry, but I have some bad news,” she said.

What was it? Was my nose too big? Was I too fat? Did none of my dresses co-ordinate?

It was worse.

“Your date hasn’t turned up.”

She explained that the “wonderful” man they’d found for me had chickened out. Or decided to watch sport instead. I can’t remember which. And while they’d tried to persuade him, he wasn’t budging.

My heart sank. I’d been rejected by a bloke before he’d even met me.

But there was another man, Orrock explained. Somebody who they thought I’d get along with.

I agreed to give him a go, and was led across Martin Place to the restaurant, Verandah.

I was given some instructions. I could call my pals in the bathroom on speaker phone, I shouldn’t worry about where the cameras were, and finally, when I arrived, I had to say to the maitre d’: “I’m Sarah, and I’m here for dinner.”

And after being miked-up by a nice man in the disabled toilet, a headphone-clad runner did a Big Brother-style count down for me to enter the restaurant. My hands were sweating, my mouth was dry, and I can’t even remember what I said to the maitre d’.

But I must have said something, because he told me to go and sit and the bar and wait for my date.

And as my date walked in, my heart sank.

He wasn’t tall, dark and handsome. Nor did he look like Ronan Keating. In fact he didn’t have any hair at all.

And I suddenly wished I could stay and chat to the barman instead.

But he was coming over.

“Hi, I’m Nad,” he said.

And on that note, I will end this behind the scenes look into how those televised dates come about. As for what happened next between me and Nad, well, I’ll be back to fill you in when my episode airs next month.

Hi, I’m Ronan Keating. What’s that? I look nothing like him? Probably because I’m actually Nad. (Pic: Channel 7)

Watch First Dates every Wednesday at 9pm on Channel 7, with Sarah’s episode screening on March 9.