A PROSTITUTE, a murder and a tiny vial of blood.

All in all this was one of the most bizarre but thought-provoking first dates I had ever had been on. This was my half hour of Etiquette at the Nuffield theatre.

The unique experience gives two people the chance to be both the actors and audience in their own personal play in the middle of a busy café bar.

It is designed to be theatre at its most raw.

Myself and my new friend sat opposite each other at a specially set up table wearing synchronised headphones and nervous expressions.

The most immediate advantage of this setting as a first date is that you get to speak to each other without having the pressure of trying to be interesting.

The most charismatic of people can clam up when they both know romance may be on the cards.

Even worse you could set the bar too high frittering away all of your sparkling conversation and scintillating banter straight away before tailing off into awkward silences.

I have in the past tried to solve this problem by rationing out my amusing anecdotes and witty observations throughout the night.

However, with the words provided for you there is no danger of dead air or blame for inappropriate content. The activity also had numerous objects on the table including a piece of chalk, tiny plastic figures, Blu Tack, water and note pads you had to interact with.

This was an unexpected bonus for me as I have tendency to fidget when I feel uncomfortable and this would keep my hands busy.

Our performance saw us switch between acting parts ourselves and using the small figures to simulate the action.

Sadly I had given mine a wonky Blu Tack head that saw him frequently tumble backwards.

I was playing the role of an old man reading a paper while my friend was acting coquettishly as I presume she was instructed to, tousling her hair, licking her lips and the like.

As the conversation flowed I was told to ask her what she did for a living.

With an alarmed tone and a startled expression she blurted out: “I’m a prostitute.”

Without wishing to give the storylines away the following 25 minutes saw us eyeing each other suspiciously, holding hands, passing deeply disturbing messages and narrating the micro play going on beneath our fingertips.

We even had to arm wrestle – I beat her.

At one point I had to imagine her hands were a hilly landscape and drizzle them with droplets of waters while she had her eyes closed.

I saw her jump with not unreasonable concern.

This was not helped by my attempt to dispense the blood which I accidentally split on her hands.

I hoped a trip to the theatre would make me seem intelligent and interesting.

Whether or not my ploy worked it was certainly enjoyable and thought- provoking, broke the ice, gave us plenty of conversation for our post date curry and served as a reminder of the cutting edge theatre The Nuffield has on offer.