The 9 Hour Date

In my humble opinion, the sign of a good first date is longevity and if you get a kiss at the end of it. Sure this may be a base way of looking at it but once you’ve grown bored of the box ticking and the social analysis, all that matters on a first date is two things: Do you get on? And, do you fancy them? The rest can wait till next time.

Cafe Boheme Bar

Here’s what I’d consider a very good date, 9 hours with which to eat, drink, jest, wander and smooch.

Sunday in Soho


Meet at Kopapa for a late brunch. This gives you enough time to get over hangovers, plus the unusual New Zealand menu gives you something to chat about immediately. Gage whether your date is in virtuous Sunday mode or battling a hangover and suggest coffee or cocktails accordingly. Whatever you do, don’t drink alone.


Brunch was short and sweet – no one likes to be caged in on a first date. You ate lightly so suggest a spot of ice-cream at Gelupo. Wander the streets while you eat them, more relaxed by now, chatting over the details of the weekend.


Ice-cream is over. Now you’ve decided you’re having fun, wander over to the Curzon cinema to see a film. You’ll be catching a 6/7pm showing so kill time with a Bloody Mary in the café beforehand. It may be an art house but avoid films over 100 minutes long.


Film done, it’s drinking time. Suggest Freud, a basement cocktail bar around the corner. Stay for one round – it’s cheap but can be noisy.


You might as well have a nightcap. There’s been enough walking today, so hail a cab to take you to Café Boheme on Old Compton Street. They’ll ask if you’re eating, so say yes and share a Croque Monsieur. Order a bottle of red wine, sit in the furthest corner and make your move. Kiss like teenagers for the next couple of hours.


It’s a Sunday for Chrissakes, go home. Separately.

Guest Writer – Nana Wereko-Brobby
Nana Wereko-BrobbyNana Wereko-Brobby is a professional matchmaker, date curator and foodie. She runs London-based offline dating agency Social Concierge where she sorts out the love lives of twenty- and thirtysomething young professionals, mostly from the comforts of a cocktail bar.

Nana lives in Shoreditch, writes in the British Library, and dates anywhere that will grant her entry.
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