Blind date; COULD YOU FIND THE LIGHT OF YOUR LIFE.. IN THE DARK?

Byline: JILL FOSTER

IT'S the ultimate blind date. A gorgeous stranger, a glass of wine, a delicious meal - and it's pitch black.

Seriously, I can not see a thing. It's not a power cut, I'm not concussed. This is Dating In The Dark, the latest trend from the US. New Yorkers are falling over themselves - literally - to attend.

I'm at the first-ever DITD event to be held in the UK. The venue is Ascots bar on London's Oxford Street, the time 8pm, the dress code - who cares?

Dating In The Dark was launched nine months ago at the trendy Suba restaurant in New York... and was an instant success.

The brainchild of French-born businessmen Christian Mouysset, 25, and Jerome Chasques, 26, the events were set up primarily as gastronomic evenings but quickly emerged as one of the best ways to meet new friends.

"We set them up as food tasting events," explains Christian. "We envisaged an experience where, because you couldn't see the food you were eating, you would have to rely on your other senses.

"But then it became a great way to socialise. Conversations are easy to strike up because if someone says: 'What do you do for a living?' you don't know who he or she is saying it to.

"So often you get two or three people answering and it breaks the ice. One thing I find surprising is people speak much louder than usual because they want to be heard.

"Diners enjoy the fact they are not judged on what they look like but what they have to say for themselves."

The statistics seem to back him up. According to a recent survey, 72 per cent of people believe good communication and trust are key to finding the right partner, whereas only 1.6 per cent of people think looks are the most important.

I was about to find out which camp I fell into.

We are greeted with cocktails at the bar and I slug two vodka martinis to calm my nerves.

Easily spooked, this is the girl who had to be carried through the haunted house at Alton Towers by her dad. He wouldn't have minded but I was 22 at the time.

Christian understands how worried I feel and says it is essential guests feel at ease about entering the room.

"We always reassure people because it's an unnatural experience," he explains. "Our waiters wear night-vision goggles and are on hand all the time. Anyone who needs help only has to raise their hand.

"Every time a waiter is about to place something on the table, he will touch you on the shoulder to warn you not to make any sudden movements."

At the bar, I get chatting to an attractive Shane Richie lookalike. His name is Phil Greenwood, and he's City Trader who has already retired at 36.

Having tried other dating experiences, he's now keen to try something different.

"I did speed dating and hated it," he admits. "I hate anything where you feel like you're being treated like cattle - herded in and out of places. This sounded more unusual, more fun."

A gong sounds and the evening begins. Folks who know me say I'm already in the dark when it comes to dating and I've certainly had dates where I wished the lights had been off.

But as a waiter leads me into the pitch black eating area it's an incredibly odd feeling.

Guests are not allowed to take anything inside which may illuminate the gloom - matches, lighters, mobile phones and palm pilots are forbidden.

Even as my eyes adjust to the gloom, I can't distinguish any outlines. The only thing visible are pin-pricks of light on the waiter's goggles.

I sit precariously at my table, slowly running my hands across it to locate my glass and plate. For five minutes I'm left alone, wafting my hands behind my back and to my sides to make sure no one is standing near me.

After a few minutes, I get the sensation that someone is opposite me. I call out "hello" and, disappointingly, a female voice answers.

Her name is Amy, she's in PR and she's only been single a couple of months. She heard about DITD after trying out internet dating.

Another person sits next to her and again, it's a female - Lucy, who's also in PR. We wonder where all the men are when suddenly we're aware that one is sitting next to me.

He's Tony Sumner, a 27-year-old from North London who works in advertising.

He doesn't sound like a psycho so we make a fumbling attempt at shaking hands and I almost topple my glass of wine. This is going to be interesting...

The room begins to fill and I'm amazed how easily the conversation flows. Under the common bond of darkness, relying on our other senses, we trust each other immediately and chat as if we're old friends.

AFTER 20 minutes, the waiter comes to collect our plates but none of us realised we had food in front of us.

We collapse in giggles as he informs us that everyone else has finished their first course. It's the start of an hilarious evening.

Someone begins to play footsie with me under the table and I think my luck is in but when I ask who it is, Amy replies.

"Oh, God. Sorry, is that your leg?" she says. "I thought it was the table." She manages to lose her shoe and bang her head on the table as she tries to retrieve it.

At one point I'm talking to Lucy, until I'm told that she's left the room and, when my conversation lapses for a moment, Tony asks if I've fallen asleep. We chat about work, families, love-lives, broken hearts... I'm surprised how open everyone is when they're only talking to a black void.

"It's weird how you lose your inhibitions when you can't see people's reactions," says Amy.

With sight denied, we're all intrigued about how much we can pick up on each other's appearances. We try to guess what everyone looks like and, apparently, Tony and I describe each other with eerie accuracy.

We eat our way through three more delicious courses. The chefs keep things simple. It's all finger food with no messy sauces, so hopefully there are no embarrassing spillages.

By this time I need the loo. I raise my hand and a waiter helps me out of my chair and out of the room. As my eyes adjust, I'm almost blinded by what is probably a 40-watt bulb in the toilets.

As the dessert course arrives, the waiters emerge from the kitchen holding candles. Like a welcome sun-rise, the glow softly illuminates the guests' faces.

Despite the fact we've been talking freely to each other for more than two hours, there's a moment of unease as we check each other out.

A man who thought he was chatting to a busty blonde is surprised to see an attractive brunette sitting opposite. "I didn't think you sounded blonde," he hurriedly jokes.

I expected Tony to have slightly floppier hair, he expected me to look older. I imagined Lucy to have shorter hair and Amy to be taller.

The guests get up and mingle. We're joined by several other men and women from other tables and everyone agrees it is one of the most innovative and unusual dating experiences we've tried.

THERE are obvious benefits - no make-up worries, your bum never looks too big - and there is something close to a Blitz mentality among the party-goers which is strangely comforting.

"I'd love to do it again," says Lucy as we all stumble into the bar to prolong the evening.

"It was so much easier to speak to people because of the experiences we were sharing. Although I've not met the love of my life, I've met lots of nice people and would really recommend it to others."

Tony agrees. "Yes, I'd do it again. The company made the night, it was a good laugh."

As for me? I swapped phone numbers and email addresses with several handsome eligible blokes.

I'd love to say "watch this space" but that might be difficult. From now on, I think it may be in the dark.

CAPTION(S):

PERFECT MATCH? Jill Foster with Tony Sumner at the Dating In The Dark night in London Picture: HELEN ATKINSON; ALL AGLOW: Blind daters Jill and Tony bask in the limelight afterwards; DIM SUM: The waiters wear night-vision goggles