Recently I started getting adverts on one of my social media feeds. It started “are you stuck in a rut?” No, I’m not but thanks for asking. It continued “do you want to make some amazing new friends?” Not really, I already have hundreds. But I read the blurb and it offered the chance to have dinner with 5 strangers, after taking a personality quiz to match you up with like minded people.

I ignored the ad and scrolled on. But this company kept popping up on my feed. Dunno how they found me but they must have thought that I’m sad and got no life. God knows what gave them that idea.

I’m quite shy (but have come on leaps and bounds in that respect of late), not good at meeting people (unless a fellow Walsall FC fan) and I’ll admit I can be a bit aloof. I think I’m an extroverted introvert if that makes any sense. I’m equally happy with a big group of mates or sat at home alone. But as this ad kept appearing, I started to consider it. It might be a laugh and I could get a blog out of it, especially as I don’t have much else to write about at the moment. Sometimes you just need to do something different, and I’ve never done anything like this. Would feel a bit like Come Dine With Me, and if I’m being totally honest I’d love to watch the evening back with the usual commentator on the show giving his epic style of narration.

There was a membership subscription available but I opted to pay £10 for a one off night. The personality quiz was a bit vague. The hobbies section listed sport. What? Partaking or watching? I don’t watch much sport. I go to Walsall games and spend most of them in the bar talking. The last time I kicked a football was in 1994. I went to watch The Fullbrook team and at half time 3 of us spectators decided to have a penalty shoot out. A lass was watching that I was very keen on, so I was eager to impress her. I took a run up, well a waddle up would be more accurate. Kicked the ball as hard as I could, and it didn’t even reach the goal. Keeper had to walk forward to pick it up. Myself and the lady didn’t get together.

So I listed my hobbies as travelling (my 2025 jaunts have been Liverpool for a stag do, Crewe (a) and Wembley. It’s still early days but Michael Palin I certainly am not. I also ticked watching tv and movies even though my television has been broken for 2 years and only watch films when Josh lays one on me at his house or I make sporadic use of my Light Cinema pass.

One other question was do I prefer cats or dogs. Well that’s easy. Cats. I’m not a dog person although Josh’s dog Mad Max and I have really hit it off and he is pushing a rethink from me on this issue. I picked cats as it was the right answer but also hoped that this would help the algorithm select some ladies for the evening.

So that was it. I was in and told I’d be advised of the venue, a hidden gem in Birmingham the night before. I’d only got a week to wait for the night but I was excited already. My wonderful colleague Carole asked “what if the place only serves cauliflower?” Imagine that. I’d be retching over everyone like those women off Little Britain.

The email came through last Monday and I was off to a Lebanese restaurant Comptoir Libanais in Grand Central, above New Street Station, the following night.. I didn’t really know where it was. But even I couldn’t fuck this up. Hang on, I know me. Of course I could.

I perused the menu. Yes, me in doing research shocker. I fancied a platter with chicken wings and lamb. I mentioned this to my colleague Tom on the day as I was wary because I’m like a caveman when it comes to eating chicken wings. His advice was “if they’re dickheads order the wings.” Duly noted.

We were sent an ice breaker question on the day. I’d been wondering what it would be. I’d ruled out “have you got a decent poo anecdote?” Not the best introduction with people you’ve just met and over a dinner table. But I had mine in my head in case anyone asked when the dinner was done and we’d all be tucking into the wine. The question was “what is your little win of the week?” Me being the usual nob that I am just thought bloody hell, it’s only Tuesday. I had no little wins to offer.

I opted for a taxi home, from out the back of work. The only previous time I’ve tried to get a taxi from that side of the hospital, it didn’t go well. You can relive that farce here. This time though I played smart, I noted the closest house number on my way in on the morning and ordered the taxi from outside there. I was picked up quickly and I managed a last gasp win over the taxi driver in my cat spotting game when I saw a moggy right by my house. The driver probably didn’t realise he was playing said game but that’s really not my problem.

I was soon on the train to Birmingham. I wasn’t nervous in the slightest. I don’t do nerves. I might be pretty rubbish at being a human most of the time but very little fazes me. I knew the restaurant closed at 9.30 and I was expecting post meal drinks with my new friends so I’d got train times from 10.30 in readiness.

I had to be at the restaurant for 7pm. I was at New Street for 6.15. I try not to be late for things apart from Walsall games where I have a very casual approach to kick off times (and I’m delighted that my Niece Amber has taken this approach on board too). So I had 45 minutes to kill. Old me would have been straight in the Wetherspoons and used that window to get 3 pints down but I opted instead to find the restaurant and have a mooch around.

I found the restaurant, piece of piss and loitered around outside before approaching at 6.50. I’d been told on email to quote the company name so I did this and asked for the table for 6 at 7 o’clock. The man looked puzzled so I reiterated. He went off to ask someone and came back. “I’ll get you a table for 6” he said. This should already be sorted I thought. Not a good start but he showed me said table so I sat in the middle of one of the two rows of 3. Basically, although I was here to make friends and get blog material I was also hoping that I might meet a nice lady, so I sat central so any females could see my ring less left hand. Shallow I know. There are probably pot holes in Walsall roads with more depth than me.

It was 6.54. A glance around and there didn’t look like there was anyone else who might be meeting strangers who could have possibly relayed the booking details better than me. I turned down a drink, whilst hoping I wasn’t asked “what time are your friends coming?”

7pm came and I was still on my own. I turned down a drink again, started wondering if the £10 I’d paid was a scam and what would I be drinking in the Post Office Vaults in a short time.

At 7.10 I was joined by Alex. He was surprised that it was just me there. He suggested we give it another 10 minutes to see if anyone else turned up. We got chatting. He’s originally from Bolton (Bo Selecta Vernon Kay going “Bolton Bolton Bolton” went straight into my head when he said this), but he moved down here for work and had trained in from Leamington. He’d been on this kind of night before with a different company throwing in “it was much better than this.”

At 7.20 we were joined by another man. He didn’t introduce himself and I certainly didn’t ask. We had a brief chat and all expressed disappointment at the lack of women, new man added further displeasure that we were not getting a discount on the food. Before ordering the waiter told us that this company had booked two tables with them the previous week and nobody had turned up. At least we had a 50% turnout. Better than some council elections.

I’d been thinking a 3 course meal, with wine but when Alex ordered Coke Zero I joined him with that and just went for a starter of Lebanese chicken wings with Zaatar & garlic flatbread. I didn’t know what Zaatar was and still don’t. I shall not be asking Jeeves. I need to point out here that I didn’t think the two lads were dickheads despite me ordering the wings. They went for main meals. A rice bowl and some sort of wrap thing with meat if I remember correctly.

The food came quickly and I apologised as I must look uncouth while eating wings. I had tried to look a bit more sophisticated by stripping the meat with my fingers but realised that was shit and it was a case of bollocks to that and I started to nibble straight off the bone.

The first set back came with me forgetting about the straw sticking out of my glass and I caught it with my hand. Somehow I became prime Jimmy Walker and caught the glass, resulting in just a little spillage. I apologised and mentioned that I hadn’t spilt a drink in a pub since Blackpool 2022 (sorry Sarah) and that it must be because I’m not used to drinking pop.

Conversation was limited due to eating but we had some good chats and I got some laughs out of Alex. The next wobble came when I tried to stack up the plates. The Spillage Gods, clearly not happy with my previous attempt at wetting the table, came back for more. This time I knocked the glass flat over and it went everywhere. I tried to mop up with serviettes but one of the waiters had to come running over with a blue paper roll. I thought at this juncture that maybe it was for the best that no women had turned up as I was clearly on a mission to make a twat of myself. The guys must have though I was a right spanner. Thank God it was only Coke. I’d have been devastated had it been wine, although the glass would have been far emptier.

Alex was the first to finish eating and announced that he could get a train in 10 minutes or his next one would be in an hour and that he was getting this one. He said “shall we jut split the bill?” I thought I don’t think so then he looked at me and said “oh you haven’t had much, we’ll pay individually,” He can read my mind as well as Josh can. My bill came to £18.90 which was nice. I’d budgeted for £50.

Alex paid and departed. I enjoyed his company and it was good to meet him but I was now thinking that those post 10.30 trains were looking a bit ambitious.

I decided to get the 8.30 train but delayed this to 8.45 as I felt a bit bad about leaving the other bloke. Just before departing I asked his name and it’s Anthony. I couldn’t not know. Knowledge is power. What I didn’t know though was what Alex and Anthony’s little wins were as the ice breaker never came up. Probably for the best as I hadn’t thought of anything. Anyone who has been to a quiz with me will know I’m shit at answering questions.

I was back in Walsall just after 9. Before the restaurant had even closed. I had planned to grab a black cab from outside Walsall Railway Station but that was when I was expecting to be home late. That would have rounded off the Come Dine With Me feel as I could have given a summary of the night to an imaginary camera with a score card in my hand. I’d have given it a 6. I enjoyed the night even though it hadn’t panned out like I hoped. Food was good and the lads sound. Plus it got me out of watching England v Senegal and I was under budget. I’d deffo do it again but maybe with the other company that Alex uses.

I got home and had some fish fingers. Yes, that was my little win. I now have the ice breaker answer should anyone ask. Alex and Anthony, I only knew you briefly but thanks.