Harry
CibbuanoLest We Forget Perfect Match
May 17th 2006 02:05
There was once a time when I would sport woolen leg warmers, colourful tights and the epitome of a fantabulous week was rounded out by five healthy weeknight doses of Greg Evans and that soothing “oh ah oh” theme song. Whatever happened to that sweetheart gameshow Perfect Match?
There has been a host of smutty attempts to rekindle TV matchmaking, but none have been able to reincarnate the wholesomeness of Perfect Match. But none have never matched the heady heights of Perfect Match. I pity anyone who missed this 80s gameshow. Every week, one lucky contestant got to quiz three members of the opposite sex from behind a pink screen to determine who they would go on a fantasy date.
The suspense and thrill was lead to the entire family glued to the screen for the entire hour. Mothers would disgruntledly comment about the rebellious, leather jacketed wild heathen who would litter each response with seedy sexual innuendo. Disapproval ratings skyrocket when the sexy rebel types would get the vote of the contestant.
For me, the twisted fun occurred when the contestant would make a sever faux pas and unwittingly pick the least charming of the bunch. As the two rejected contestants walked passed the screen to give their rejectee the “you bitch/bastard” hug and kiss on the cheek, the look of utter disappointment on the contestant’s face when their less than perfect match was revealed was positively priceless.
The look of dread on their faces as Greg Evans sat them down on a pink sofa to expand upon the weekend romantic getaway holiday planned was nothing short of
gold. In such a case there would be one who would be seated on the pink love settee proud as punch and the other would be sinking further into the folds rationalizing the most absurd escape plans. When they kicked off to that sort of start, it was impossible to miss the next weeks episode when Greg would dissect their date on national TV. The spy camera footage was testament to exactly what the couple got up to. More often than not, you’d find each party at opposite ended of the dancefloor, blind drunk with a small harem of would be holiday flings. Ooh Aah Ooh, the good old days!
The original love god, Greg Evans
The suspense and thrill was lead to the entire family glued to the screen for the entire hour. Mothers would disgruntledly comment about the rebellious, leather jacketed wild heathen who would litter each response with seedy sexual innuendo. Disapproval ratings skyrocket when the sexy rebel types would get the vote of the contestant.
For me, the twisted fun occurred when the contestant would make a sever faux pas and unwittingly pick the least charming of the bunch. As the two rejected contestants walked passed the screen to give their rejectee the “you bitch/bastard” hug and kiss on the cheek, the look of utter disappointment on the contestant’s face when their less than perfect match was revealed was positively priceless.
gold. In such a case there would be one who would be seated on the pink love settee proud as punch and the other would be sinking further into the folds rationalizing the most absurd escape plans. When they kicked off to that sort of start, it was impossible to miss the next weeks episode when Greg would dissect their date on national TV. The spy camera footage was testament to exactly what the couple got up to. More often than not, you’d find each party at opposite ended of the dancefloor, blind drunk with a small harem of would be holiday flings. Ooh Aah Ooh, the good old days!
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