We at SOULS are firm believers in increasing inter-year group and intra-faculty relations (or as Mark Henaghan would call it, ‘collegiality’). To this end, we’ve decided to set up single law students on blind dates. We provide the food and alcohol, you provide a good time and a write-up of the night’s events (as below). If this sounds like you, keep an eye on our Facebook page for the next round of sign-ups!


Headcase: Law Student v Dignity [2017] NZVB

Held: Dignity lost, student awarded hangover dustier than the Law Reports in the Richardson Library.

As a fifth year, my search for a SOULS mate has been, much like a Carbolic Smoke Ball, steamy yet ineffective. As such, I figured it was high time to leave it to “the experts” at SOULS to bag me the Jesse to my Marcello. In true scarfie fashion I rocked up 8 standards deep, fizzing to discuss some dicta. “Jesse” came in hot a few minutes later (only not the inebriated kind), lets just say I wanted him to invade my personal space on a Mark Henaghan level.

Turns out, to my delight, he was *plot twist* a second year and even better, was still living in a hall. My international man of mystery was also pretty fresh to New Zealand, so I thought it only fair to apply some undue influence to down our wine to test his cultural assimilation. In hindsight, this was an error of judgment; he passed the test but I was on the verge of passing out. The chain of causation that then led us to a bar somewhere in the wider Octagon vicinity (unclear).

What I do know is we drank something akin to methylated spirits, and I am estopped from recalling what happened thereafter. On a request for discovery the next day, my charming date informed me some expelling of bodily fluids in a bathroom was involved (take from that what you will). As for where the rest of the night took us, I am not one to cougar and tell but … res ispa loquitor.

On a side note, I hope my date fleeing the country a few days after our rendezvous is unrelated to the night’s events. Watch this space. 

Editors note: The following day, this charming female ‘accidentally’ sent me a text saying: “P.s. I’ve been getting with 4th years”. She later said: “I would like to affirm my stance as a big advocate of ‘getting with’ younger students for study purposes, and I would encourage readers to do the same.”


In typical Dunedin fashion, the night kicked off to Jayfly’s Do You Like Jungle blaring from the speakers, while my mate, dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and speedsters, enthusiastically passed me drink after drink. It was like the Olympics, but for my liver.

Once the clock hit quarter to eight, I stumbled out the door and scrambled onto my bike, zooming down to Captain James Cook’s very own Velvet Burger. As the cool autumn breeze blew through my hair, and the moonlight illuminated the road before me, I realized that, like Lance Armstrong, someone should have banned me from using my bicycle that evening. Nonetheless, with a hand-picked bouquet of flowers in one hand, and a bottle of wine secured tightly in my bicycle’s water bottle holder, I rode further into the night.

At Velvet, my date (X) and I were quickly paired and brought down to an intimate corner of the restaurant, where I presented her with her bouquet of assorted vegetation – she seemed delighted. From that moment onwards, both the conversation and the wine flowed like the waters of the Waikato river. X turned out to be absolutely lovely, with fantastic chat, a beautiful smile, and striking eyes. Mid-way through the meal, we forgot about the food altogether and began trying to out-drink each other instead; that vino hit us like a train.

We then agreed to head down to a nearby whiskey bar; big mistake. A sip of whiskey deep and I had to be excused to the bathroom, where I proceeded to redecorate the walls and floors with my spew. Then, peacefully, like a faun in the forest, I lay down to take a nap on the restroom floor. I would love to tell you about how I heroically resuscitated and went on to taking X home, but nope. As I awoke from my snooze, my dreams, hopes, and fantasies for the night lay on the floor beside me, in the shape of a puddle of vomit. By then, X had gone home. Anti-climactic, I know.

Moral of the story, everyone deserves a second chance. X let’s go another date?

Thanks to SOULS for the evening! 10/10 would recommend.