💖 Sexico City Update 🌃
I went on a live blind-dating show. Here's what happened...
This is Part 2 of an adventure which started last Friday after I sent out my newsletter.
I paced back and forth in my apartment. The lure of the upcoming evening loomed closer, and my nerves set in. I was about to do one of the most fun, random and also potentially embarrassing things in my entire life: that evening, I was going to be a contestant on a live, blind dating show, Sexico City, for their season finale. And all my friends, including some family friends visiting from out of town, would be there.
Without my knowing, Sexico City had quickly become the talk of the town. Hosted by my friends Marko and Carmina, the show discusses love, weird sex kinks, awkward personality traits, and everything in between. Since getting a call from the producers that week, I had agreed to let myself be questioned in front of a live audience of 150 people. Time had unforgivingly ticked away, and now I had to be at the show in an hour. And I had no idea what to wear.
I group-called two friends, threw on outfits, and panted down the phone as I sifted between crumpled chiffon tops and suits.
“I’m panicking!” I cried.
“Which outfit makes you feel most confident?” my friend Andie shouted through the phone over my confusion.
“Hang on!” I replied.
I dove back into my closet and found my holy grail: my bold, bright, tropical, matching suit. I had bought it from “More Boutique,” a shop in my neighborhood that was filled to the brim with diamantes, fake jewels, hooker heels, and tiny miniskirts. But when I put this suit on, it somehow meant something far greater than tacky sequins. It meant confidence. It meant power. It meant being whoever I wanted to be.
What happened in the next couple of hours was mostly a blur. After treating myself to sushi and mezcal, I found myself backstage in a well-lit dressing room at the theatre, along with my co-contestant. She was called Aja (watch her account of the show here), and I laughed with her over another beer, still trying and failing to loosen up and keep things cool. She helped me by testing me with some basic questions.
“What type of man do you like?” she said.
“O-Outdoorsy?” I said after a long pause. “Athletic. No, I like weird dudes. Dudes with tattoos. Weirdos.”
“Okay,” she said, frowning a little. Clearly, I was about to bore the audience out of their minds. “Just try and say the stuff that’s specific. It’s more interesting.”
“Got it,” I said. I held my breath, trying not to overwhelm myself with anxiety-ridden flashes into the future; I was about to go onstage with an audience of 150 people, blindfolded and being asked the same question and was sure to fail miserably. I held onto a copy of my book, determined to use it as a crutch to start the conversation if I had to.
Then the producers came. They said hurriedly over their mics,
“Tash, you’re up.”
I gulped. This was my time to shine. I was blindfolded, and I tried not to trip over the stairs as Carmina led me out onto the stage. As I did, I felt the silent breaths of 150 people before me. I couldn’t see them. I could only hear. I tried to run through funny, interesting things I could say about myself.
I’m from London. I’ve written a book. I studied Business Analytics. Data? What? Is that interesting? No, don’t mention that.
“Welcome to our first contestant, Tash!” Carmina said. I heard the audience’s applause. I angled myself towards the noise. The room smelt like damp, industrial carpet, potato chips and beer.
“What brings you to Sexico City?” Marko said.
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