Revealed: The Gruelling Training Required To Be An Elite Single


IT’S 6am on a freezing February morning, and WWN are doing star-jumps in the lashing rain on a Tramore beach as a drill instructor screams obscenities at us.

Five minutes later, we’re doing drills which involve running around a mock-restaurant, pulling out chairs for imaginary dates and ordering anything except chicken wings off the menu. We glance at our watch; we have another 7 hours of this training to go through today, and it’s just day one of a week-long course.

This is how you become an Elite Single.

“Pick it up, you un-dateable fucks, you fucking cat people, move your asses!” yells our drill instructor, urging us to either practice picking out our best underwear, or just quit and go the fuck home.

“Any of you ugly fucks think you’re good enough to be in my Elite Singles unit? There’s not one of you sons of bitches that are worth a right swipe on Tinder, let alone the most exclusive dating program on God’s green earth”.

“So let’s move, you Plenty-Of-Fish reject looking motherfuckers. Get on them iPhones! Practice your emoji based flirting! Learn how to compliment someone! Come on you pukes, you want to be found dead in your apartment alone by a neighbour complaining about the smell, with half your fingers eaten off by your nine cats? Fucking move!”

Though at many times throughout the course we felt like we were going to quit, we stuck it out and proudly graduated as Elite Singles, ready to join the legions of other Elite Singles who signed up after seeing the ad playing during This Morning. SEMPER FI!