Jo Thornely recaps First Dates 2017 episode 12

IF you haven’t been with THE ONE does it still count? And that wasn’t even the strangest moment of the night on First Dates Australia. Jo Thornely walks you through it.

NOW that we’re at the end of the second series of First Dates and we’re all seasoned aficionados of the show, it’s time to admit something: sometimes it makes us do a goofy face and sort of believe in love.

I mean, some of us are dead inside and all it makes us do is want a steak, but two different kinds of people, you know what I mean?

Everything I do, I do it for you.

Bianca & Christian

Italian girl Bianca tells us in private that she thinks she’s a virgin because she’s never found someone that she’s 100% comfortable with. Like say, a Greek bloke with good arms who’s looking for an Italian girl who’s looking for a Greek bloke with good arms, for example.

Yasou, signorina.

I wouldn’t say that it’s love at first sight for Christian and Bianca, except it’s TOTALLY LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT FOR CHRISTIAN AND BIANCA. Look. Just look at it.

Hahahahahahaha quick, softly touch my face.

The date follows the age-old path: boy meets girl, girl checks that he’s a mummy’s boy, boy feeds girl steak, girl calls her friend about boy’s arm muscles, boy and girl squish their faces together.

I want to Ionian Sea you again.

Even the ubiquitous zucchini flowers know these two are going to agree to a second date. Sure, they live in different states, but they both want to make it work. I mean, if oregano can bring Greeks and Italians together, then so can a nine-hour bus ride.

Zoe & Matt

Zoe has her own business, and hopes to build an empire. Don’t worry, if you missed her saying ‘build an empire’ the first time, there are roughly eight thousand opportunities to hear it again. She doesn’t have time for a relationship, and from this season’s hit rate, I reckon she’s come to the right place to not have one.

Can we make this snappy, I have an eight o’clock power conference.

Zoe’s date is Matt, a navy guy with a good face who doesn’t realise this is a job interview for Assistant Manager: Empire Construction.

My primary skills are eating oysters and firing torpedoes.

During any job interview, if the interviewer pops to the loo for a quick strategy meeting, it’s not a good idea for your employment chances to follow them in. That only works on Ally McBeal, buddy.

Corporate interruptus.

“Lucky I didn’t fart, eh” mutters Matt, perhaps to offset Zoe’s enthusiasm for discussing ambition and achievement. “I used to be school captain”, he continues, sensing that his recruitment agency’s matching algorithm might be a bit off.

At Awkward Question Time, it turns out that Matt doesn’t want the job anyway, sending Zoe a ‘seeking opportunities elsewhere’ email with his face.

“I’ve been doing my empire without anybody for a very long time, so I’m more than happy to do it by myself” Zoe tells us, trying to make that not sound like a euphemism.

Harry & Lyndal

You know those pictures where you can’t really tell if you’re looking at a silhouette of a vase or a silhouette of two faces? I can’t tell if Harry is a quirky, fun guy to be around or an utter, utter wanker.

Even he’s not completely sure.

Harry tells us his ideal girl would be someone he could catch lizards with and then take them for a walk, not really making the distinction between quirk and wank any clearer. Happily the vivacious and likeable Lyndal, whose only flaw is identifying strongly with Lara Croft a decade too late, doesn’t seem to care which he is. Dude made her a paper plane. Game on.

Join the fifteen centimetre high club.

My jury’s still out though, so it’s time to make a list.

Harry suggests they order each other’s main meals: quirk.

He’s not wearing any socks: wank.

He speaks with the gravelly languor that people ask for vegan chai lattes in and pretends he knows how many sides a dodecahedron has: wank.

He draws this on the table:

Quirk? I guess?

Let’s just split it down the middle: Harry is 100% quank.

But with only mild reservations about what might be lurking beneath an obvious facade, you know who likes quank?

Lyndal. Lyndal likes quank.

She agrees to a second date buying eggs and throwing them at people, at Harry’s suggestion.

What a couple of quankers.

Angelina & Josh.

Emergency nurse Angelina and primary school teacher Josh have three things in common: they both want a nice moderate life, they both have nice moderate personalities, and they both have extreme dimples that pierce directly through space and time.

What nice dimples you have.

Thank you, your dimples are also nice.

Do you know what the interesting thing about good-looking people with nice and moderate personalities is? Please email me your answer, because buggered if I know.

“Do you want to high-five now or later?” asks Josh, after he and Angelina realise they share the same taste in nice, moderate movies.

The nice people dimple themselves deeply through their postdate interview and nobody is much surprised when they agree to a nice, moderate second date.

It’s. Y’know.

Nice?

Nice.

Jazz & Gareth

Jazz is a bubbly girl with a big grin who seems like she’d be a top chick if you got to know her.

Gareth is a British traveller who has made the uniquely extraordinary decision to live in Bondi, and seems like he’d be a top bloke if you got to know him.

Cheers, it’s great to not get to know you.

Unfortunately for anyone getting to know anyone, it feels like the show’s editors, sensing the end of the series, have pissed off early to the pub.

We get three minutes to get to know some fleeting facts about the pair — for example, ‘Jazz’ is an abbreviation of the name ‘Jasmine’, while Gareth claims that the shortened form of his name is ‘D.I.C.K’.

Gareth is a keen mountain biker, while Jazz recently came out of a long-term relationship with a mountain biker.

We can only guess if Jazz and Gareth have ‘eating dinner’ in common, as we don’t see them order or eat — we just jump straight to the series’ last ever suggestive banana.

Oh, we got to know YOU well, mister.

After the time it usually takes a mosquito to sneeze, we’re suddenly in Awkward Question Time agreeing to a second date, unable to figure out if we’re pleased or not. Oh, well. I guess … just put up a picture of them making silly faces then?

That’ll do.

There. We’re done. Season over. Let’s kiss each other good night, walk different ways up the street, and take a welcome break from accordion music.