Dinner dating

Looking for love in all the wrong places? Pull up a seventh chair as KATHERINE HOBY tries her luck at Table for Six.

It's the longest journey of my life. The walk from street to restaurant door to table is like the sashay along a beauty pageant runway. Not as terrifying as the swimsuit section - but close.

I'm tempted to do a heel turn and flick a coy little smile over the shoulder as I am ushered over to meet my fellow diners at Table for Six. Sitting in this above-average suburban restaurant in their second-to-best dinner gear they may not be holding up scorecards but I know mentally they are already totting up my score - assessing my eligibility for Miss Singles 2002.

To be fair, I have brought this on myself by building this experience into a drama. But surely my fellow diners feel similarly on parade? Right from the first moment, when the membership form was filled out, I started to feel nervous. Was it really a good idea, signing up for a regular dinner date with five strangers, hoping to meet new friends - and, let's be honest, romantic partners?

A Table for Six hostess guides me to the table, introducing my dinner mates, first names only. I forget them immediately - great memory for a journalist. The hostess organises us so we sit man, woman, man, woman, man, woman. Once our final guest arrives and the evening starts to gel, she collects her fee for facilitating ($20 each) and disappears.

Then it's up to us. Eyes flicker up and down ever so subtly and smiles are exchanged. I curse myself for being late. Looking back, it would have been smart to give myself the opportunity to size up new people as they arrived - not to mention a few moments for a complimentary drink.

But, whatever time you arrive, the process is the same. While you're being assessed, you're also assessing those around you.

The girls: are they likely to be potential gal pals? Competition? Are they prettier than me? More intelligent?

The guys: what do they score on the attractiveness scale? Is there any significant eye contact? Do they make the "potential lover" category?

N OT wanting to judge the whole operation on one outing I sampled two Table for Six dinners. The first was at a Thai restaurant and, while it went well, there was no one I really clicked with. The second, at an Italian-style cafe, was more successful. My fellow diners were more on my wavelength, and one in particular caught my eye.

It's all rather like being in a bar or out for a girls'/boys' night with the singles radar on full alert. Things are awkward, especially for the first hour. But put six intelligent, interesting people at a dinner table, add some alcohol, and the social mating instinct kicks in. And should you be so lucky as to meet someone you like, you can be assured they are single - and probably not an axe murderer.

Despite that, apparently there are some who appraise the guests like a half dozen eggs and, not seeing anything they like, gobble their dinner without a word and leave. All those I had dinner with, however, were genuine people. While there were some embarrassing silences, they were generally filled by a question geared towards finding out more about each other and making people laugh. What can't you live without? Do you have any tattoos? What are your hobbies? And what was the worst job you had? The questions started us talking and laughing - and raised a few eyebrows.

Everyone was friendly and well-mannered, though understandably nervous. I had conversations with 10 people over the course of two dinner nights, while staff flitted around our table, refilling glasses, getting us relaxed and talking. There was discussion on why people were here, and what their experiences had been like.

At the Thai restaurant we made great play of ordering dishes by their proper names, instead of the "I'll have a number four with chicken" style.

To break the awkward atmosphere, my fellow diners and I took delight in assessing what was happening at other Table for Six tables in the restaurant.

"They look like they're having a good time," one would offer.

We others would not-so-subtly turn our heads to look.

"Nah, not as good a time as us," we'd chorus.

Overall, the second dinner went better. This time we were not all seasoned dining veterans. No one looked at me as though I was one egg in a box. And we were all on a par as far as experience went. I enjoyed some decent conversations, especially with one of the men at the cafe-bar we went to afterwards when it felt okay to monopolise one person's time - which I'd wanted to do all through dinner.

Both times my fellow diners turned up dressed safe but smart, the girls in svelte tops and trousers, the guys in shirts and pants. Both groups looked like a bunch of friends I might sit down to dinner with on any old night, but from new circles. Most had good jobs: there was a psychologist, a franchise owner, an accountant, a firefighter.

During the two dinners I met some interesting characters including Victoria*, a psychologist who had a cheese addiction, and Hamish, who had a baby face and turned up to dinner in shorts. I wondered what he was doing there. I think he did too, after a while.

There was Jack, a strapping guy who worked in security. He inhaled his meal in about two minutes and reminded me of Homer Simpson with his "can't talk, I'm eating" type mentality.

There was Di, whose cheerful banter helped to start conversation but overwhelmed other diners by night's end.

I also met Mike, who looked hip and self-confident but turned out to be withdrawn. He kept his leather jacket on most of the night, and nipped outside twice to have a cigarette.

And there was Rachel, whose evil, assessing eye I could feel almost before I got into the restaurant. She barely spoke to me, or the other woman at the dinner, but acted as if the men were the most fascinating on the planet. Some people come to dine, Rachel was there to score.

Belinda, the one date-dining veteran I met at dinner one, admitted she'd had some dinners where she had had to hold the conversation all night. There had been one dinner where she had wanted to leave as soon as she walked in the door. "When it comes down to it I am looking to meet intelligent, interesting people. It's no stranger than meeting someone at a bar - at least you know they're single," she said. "At one dinner the people looked fine but they didn't speak. It was exhausting."

B ETH WRIGHT, the owner of Table for Six, knows that people do hook up through the dinners - after all, she did. She met her partner Jon about 4 1/2 years ago, and bought the business two years ago.

"I truly believe there is someone for everyone," she says. "We know it works."

While she, and others, have met partners through the dinners Wright is wary of promoting it as a dating service. "It's not a dating agency. It's an environment to socialise with other single people," she says. "Essentially it's what you make of it."

And meeting potential friends and partners through such a service is becoming more acceptable, says Wright who charges a $180 three-year membership fee plus $20 for each dinner or party attended, on top of the meal's cost. During that three years Table for Six staff scan their list of diners, looking for potential soul mates - and so ensuring losers are in the minority.

"People are becoming aware that this is another option for them to meet people," says Wright. "Many work long hours. Table for Six offers another opportunity for meeting like-minded people other than the pubs and clubs many feel uncomfortable in. It is easy to dial up a dinner date at short notice, and some find themselves craving the company of other singles in a society where almost everyone seems coupled up."

People have varied reasons for joining. Wright says her own were typical. "I came back from overseas and my last single girlfriend found herself a boyfriend," she says. "That was it."

Restaurants are selected for their atmosphere, food and cost. Round tables are considered a bonus because they make it much easier for people to talk. Why table for six, and not four or eight or 12? Explains Wright, four is too intimate, and eight too many. Six gives people the opportunity to get to know each other - and, it is hoped, make a change in their social life.

As for the romantic and social alchemy that comes into matching six like-minded hopefuls from thousands of members, Wright will not admit to any formula. "It's hard to say how we put them together. We don't just pick six out of a stack of profiles, but then there is some luck involved."

Wright relies on feedback from diners about characters they enjoyed or disliked plus a half-hour interview with new members to assess interests and personality. "You get a feel for it after a while but there's definitely an element of guesswork. How many of us know couples that you would have never picked to be together?"

Wright is cagey about how many clients meet either friends or lovers over a Table for Six dinner but there have been two engagements lately. While many members do things the old-fashioned way and swap phone numbers at the end of the night and Table for Six offers a go-between service where a member who is interested in seeing a dining companion again can express that wish without making a fool of himself or herself in person, the company does not offer statistics.

Maybe Wright is simply too busy. There are 35 Table for Six dinners a week, catering for ages from early 20s to late 50s and 60s. Every two or three weeks there is a major event to co-ordinate - a wine trail, cruise or party. She is also available on mobile. "Anyone can call me just about any time." Despite the hours, Wright loves her job: "I used to be a chartered accountant - of course I love this. I'm making people happy."

And the business of love is booming. The membership of Table for Six is 4000 and growing.

On reflection, nerve-racking though a Table for Six dinner might be, it is no more so than a first date. And it is worth the money for those seriously seeking new dinner companions. It will fill your spare nights with dinners. It might provide new friends to dine with. It may even lead to a table for two.

*All names changed.