So, my eagerly awaited (and partially dreaded) date with the winner of the 'Dear Coni' competition went down last night. When TNT first launched the competition I honestly thought it would be one of those things that people agreed to in good humour but that never actually materialised, like the time my Uncle 'agreed' to play Jesus in his Church's crucifixion play. He never thought he would end up having to walk around the streets of Cardiff in a loin cloth and a crown of thorns, but clearly Welsh priests can be quite persistent. Similarly, the public's and TNT's determination to put me in awkward situations and feast on my squirming proved a forced to be reckoned with, so low and behold, the date was set up.
I'm not going to lie, I spent the build up to the evening in a state of minor panic. Despite my foul mouthed, man eating bravado, I am actually the kind of girl that embodies every kind of pre-date cliché, from fretting about what to wear to having a minor panic attack because I forgot to paint my nails. I also have an extremely high 'awkward radar' which causes me to cringe and occasionally hyperventilate at the first sign of a socially uncomfortable situation. I'm aware this doesn't bode well for a girl who is so far making a career off the back of the numerous socially uncomfortable situations I find my self in on a regular basis – dating a complete stranger being my latest foray in to the genre – but there you go.
With the bevvy of issues mentioned above, you'd think I spent the afternoon having a nice relaxing bath, a pamper session with a glass of Chardonnay and maybe a couple of episodes of Keeping Up With The Kardashians just to numb my anxious brain in to submission. But no, I ended up having to get ready in a library toilet and dashing across town to relinquish a days worth of dissertation research on to my flat mate to take home, so that I didn't turn up looking like a crazed bag lady. Hair brushed, lips glossed, and feminist literature handed over, like a disorganised lamb to the slaughter, I set off to The Grand Imperial to meet my handsome suitor....
And I'm guessing you are all dying to know how it went, right?
Well, unfortunately, like the great Imogen Thomas before me, I have been gagged and censored... until Monday anyway. Check back then, or pick up a copy of TNT, to see how my date went, to see if I'm still single and more importantly, to see if I made it out of the date alive (Spoiler alert – I am alive, I heard some people had money riding on me being kidnapped and murdered – sorry about your fiver, Will.)
Follow Coni on Twitter @ConiLJ
