Take Me Out: The Experience

So there I was. Standing in line with 24 other girls, facing the baying crowds, waiting to judge and be judged by a potential future lover – and wondering how the hell I'd got there.

I was taking part in Mildert's very own Take Me Out, and all the flippant confidence I'd had in volunteering disappeared the minute the aggressively cheesy beats of Single Ladies struck.

This was our entrance music for our walk through the audience to the stage, and was one of the cringiest things I’ll ever have to do. Walk up apathetically and you look like a loser, walk up with ‘attitude’ and you look like a bigger loser; I went for somewhere in the middle, but probably ended up looking like a loser.

For those of you who haven’t watched the television magic that is Take Me Out, it’s a dating show where several guys have the chance to impress 30 girls, who each have the power to turn off their lights (or turn over a piece of cardboard in this version) if they’re not interested. 

The idea is that as we learn more about each guy, he must try to keep on enough lights to bag himself a date at the end.

So when my friend told me about Mildert’s version, designed to raise money for the college’s Young Persons' Project, I was pretty up for what seemed like a night of cringe-inducing witticisms, toe-curling innuendo, and hot guys.

There was of course the potential for humiliation. Although the guys are certainly a lot braver than us girls, going out individually and all, the power balance changed when the guys got to eliminate the girls he didn’t like the look of.

My cowardice was such that before the show I decided that I wouldn't get myself into a situation where it was just me and one other girl.

I know that’s sh*t bants or whatever, but the idea of someone coming and candidly telling you you’re not good enough is not an attractive prospect, so I thought I’d save myself the humiliation.

So out came contestant number one. I liked him straightaway thanks to his choice of entrance music (Lapdance – N.E.R.D – very sexy song). He was doing quite well amongst the ladies until the talent round, where he chose to sing. 

I don’t know if I wasn’t paying enough attention or was just too into his (questionable) singing, but when the talent round was over, I saw most the girls had turned their lights off, and I had got into a final two situation. My first thought was F-*-C-K!! 

My female opponent for his affections was in fact a guy dressed in drag, known as ‘Gladdis’, and it seemed obvious to the audience and other contestants that he’d choose me on the basis of my being female. 

My cynical side thought otherwise: I *knew* he’d have to live up to LADBANTER expectations and pick the guy, which, of course, he did.

It came down to him asking us a question, and we had to think on our feet to say something witty. You try answering “If you were a packet of crisps, what flavour would you be?” with 5 seconds thinking time!

Gladdis’ answer went something along the lines of “Flame Grilled Steak, cos I consider myself a bit of a beefcake”. I opted for “Something mild, like Sour Cream, cos you’re hot enough for the both of us”. Maybe I came on too strong?!

As I later found out, it was actually a case of bromance: him and Gladdis were best mates, and it turned he’d planned on picking him all along. Now this isn’t really in the spirit of the show, but I can’t blame him for going with the ‘banter’ option. 

Although I will remain bitter at the fact that the date in question was a massage – I WOULD LOVE A F*CKING MASSAGE! 

It made me feel somewhat better that the same thing happened in the Trev’s version, which I attended last night, where ‘Josephine’ (who didn’t actually look too unattractive as a girl) landed himself a date. Boys will be boys.

When I turned my light off for the next contestant and our host asked why, I rambled incoherently about how I’d had too much alcohol and too much rejection for one night; I think I thought I was being funny but the pitying faces of the audience said otherwise…

Now the third contestant was actually being stitched up: we’d been told beforehand to give him a Blackout, meaning we’d all have to turn our lights off as soon as he’d said his name. This was a shame, as he was quite fit. Sorry about that.

The guys were a lot of fun, ranging from endearing to arrogant, but overall the night was a great success, and ended up raising nearly £800 for YPP.

So although I didn’t get lucky, I left Mildert drunk, pumped and rejected –  where better for such a state than Klute?!