http://themiddleground.sg/2016/02/14/lunch-actually-is-just-lunch-actually/
PREMIUM dating services have been all the rage of late, and the
leading name in Singapore is Lunch Actually. But do they work?
After suppressing my curiosity for longer than usual (i.e. seven
minutes), I signed up to get an honest view of how it all works.
Here’s what happens when you fork out a hefty 2.5 grand for a top
dating service. And yes, it’s my own money.
The problem with dating a writer is that we can always imagine
better relationships. In my case it’s not particularly hard – my
friends have been known to describe my dates as “at least that
one didn’t have a criminal record.” Also, the places where I
meet women tend to involve copious amounts of alcohol, so my
judgment at the time is comparable to something from a Channel 8
courtroom drama.
That’s when, while browsing the net, I came across Lunch
Actually.
Their website said it was an alternative to those tired of the
pub and club scene, which yes, I was. I was tired of it 15 years
ago, when doing the Macarena wasn’t considered a mental disability.
It also said the service was for people “not at ease” with meeting
people online, an experience which the few survivors of a Tinder
date can attest to. (Read more about another TMG writer’s
experience on Tinder here.)
So I figured what the heck, I’ll check out this premium dating
service (with all relevant costs), so you guys know what you’d be
getting into.
Joining Lunch Actually
Less than an hour after registering on the website, I got a
phone call inviting me down to the Lunch Actually office for a
chat. Their office is in Park Mall (that furniture place across
from Dhoby Ghaut), and I have to admit it gives off a professional
vibe – this isn’t some matchmaking service with a Feng Shui
waterfall in a corner and an album of mail order brides.
A consultant attends to you, and the first thing I notice is
that they’re all women. When I ask why, I’m told Lunch Actually has
tried male consultants, but men aren’t comfortable explaining their
dating preferences to other men.
Which is bizarre, because most single men do nothing
but explain their dating preferences to their guy friends
until the third beer. It also throws me off because, as a rule, I
don’t take dating advice from women*.
Over the course of a 20-minute conversation, the consultant
interrogates you as to your dating preferences. Does ethnicity
matter to you? Must your partner be older or younger? What
profession? Shorter or taller? What hobbies should they have, and
how much does it matter to you?
After about the 10th question I realised I didn’t know the
answers myself. This brought to light one of the key differences
between paid dating services, and regular dating:
For most of us, the criteria is as simple as “that person
looks cute, I’m going to talk to them.” A paid dating service
seems catered to people who want a specific kind of partner – right
down to a personality type and profession.
I’m going to go out on a limb, and say that for people who date
the regular way, this will never not be disturbing. It
felt like I was giving a product description.
Once you’re done explaining your ideal date, you get a caveat –
there are no guarantees that you will find exactly what you’re
looking for, it’s better if you’re open-minded, etc. When I asked
the consultant if people were picky, she told me some could get
very exacting; to the point where matches were almost
impossible.
At the end of that, you get offered a series of packages, which
include a dating workshop, an image consultation session, and a
number of arranged dates. The mid-range package, which is around
$2,500 (ouch), gets you on five pre-arranged dates.
There’s also an option to freeze the service for a certain
duration. So if you hit it off on your second date, you can suspend
the service and see how things work out, before going on the other
three.
The last part of it is a screening process, where your various
certificates and income are checked. It’s more thorough than some
job interviews I’ve had, so forget about faking your
background.
(*No, I’m don’t hate women. I don’t take dating advice from
women because most are inclined to be polite rather than
frank.)
The free image consultation session
This was more of a sales pitch than anything. I was offered the
session about two weeks after signing up – you go down to the
office, where a consultant gives you a basic run down on fashion
tips. This is done one-on-one.
You’ll learn nothing you can’t grab off the Internet (but hey,
it’s a free session). The consultant was charming and professional.
But matching warm and cool colours, or knowing that the bottom
shouldn’t be lighter than the top, were not eye openers for me.
I got the feeling that the main point wasn’t to turn you into a
rock star. It was more to ensure members wouldn’t turn up at dates
looking like they had a rough day at the fish market. That happens
to be something I appreciate; if you forget to wear proper shoes to
a restaurant, I’ll forget to bring my interest. But if you think
this is going to be a custom image consultation session… nope, it’s
just a pitch to sell you that.
The consultant had further packages that would be tailored to my
appearance. But that would have cost more (I spied four digit
figures), so I settled for looking like an unshaved barbarian and
hoping my personality makes up for it.
The only thing that ticked me off about this is that it’s
marketed as “free image consultation” on the package. That’s
technically true; I wasn’t charged anything for the Buzzfeed worthy
fashion tips. But I hate it when sales pitches are disguised as
freebies like this; only creepy Multi-Level Marketing types do
that.
The dating workshop
There are some instructional videos to prep you for the
workshop. And the workshop covers the critical issues like body
language, how to hold a conversation, how to handle the “who pays”
bit at the end, etc.
For the socially awkward, maybe this gives them a half decent
shot. If you’re the sort who runs out of things to say, or forgets
to get contact numbers for a follow-up date, you could use this.
For the rest of us, a lot of this is actually common sense – and
becoming conscious of it makes it harder, not easier.
Take the body language thing, for example. If you’re conscious
of maintaining eye contact, keeping your posture straight, not
fidgeting, etc. I’m willing to bet you’re not concentrating on what
you’re saying. Your date also becomes exhausting. During the
arranged dates I simply disregarded the body language lessons and
acted like I do on normal dates, because all it
was doing was getting in the way.
When it came to issues of holding a conversation, the main
advice was to talk about passions. Not about trivial stuff (movies,
the weather, etc.) Fair enough. But what it doesn’t address enough
is how to escalate from “talk” to “indicating sexual interest”,
which is the real problem most shy people have.
My own conclusion is that the workshop’s helpful to the shy
ones. But most guys and girls will be doing a lot of what’s
suggested on an instinctive level.
The dates
The dates are arranged for you, and you get texted and emailed
when a match is found. Lunch Actually makes the reservations at a
restaurant, and you get some details on who you’re dating.
There’s a compatibility system that matches you, but I can’t
endorse it. Not because it doesn’t work – but because intense
connections don’t truly stem from things like looks, profession,
shared interests, etc. Some of the best relationships I’ve had (and
I’m sure you’ve had) are with people from totally unrelated
backgrounds.
Of the people I met through the service (they range from
engineers to school teachers), I’d never complain about any of
them. And Lunch Actually’s biggest credit is that, unlike Tinder
dates, I never met a single person that made me move the sharp
cutlery away from her. Chalk that up to the thorough screening
process.
Most of the dates though, were shy and quiet. There’s a certain
romance that’s missing in the process – maybe it’s too many
romantic comedies, but I’ve always felt people want to
unexpectedly bump into the one who sweeps them off their
feet.
Most men and women fantasise about meeting “the right one” when
they share an elevator with the right person, bring out an umbrella
for someone caught in the rain, etc. “Your mum and I met on a
pre-arranged date” just isn’t an awesome romantic story for
the kids.
And the awareness of the artificial, pre-arranged nature of the
date is an invisible third wheel. It’s sitting right there at the
table with both of you, making things awkward. The end result tends
to be a pleasant meeting, but without any sparks.
Turns out, for most of my dates, Lunch Actually was just… lunch,
actually.
Is it worth it?
If you’re the sort who suffers approach anxiety (i.e. you cannot
go up to a stranger and say “hi, what’s up?” without a mental
breakdown) then this service is very helpful. Expensive,
but helpful. At the very least, those pre-arranged dates are a
powerful start to fixing your shyness.
But for those who are hanging around bars and clubs and
meeting each other, I wouldn’t consider it an alternative. Because
we’re used to doing it the old-fashioned way, pre-arranged dates –
especially ones that you both know you paid for – feel stifled and
uncomfortable.