There were five of us and I don’t think any of us changed our underwear for the four days. By “it,” I mean the worst of the worst in the world of dating entertainment: All seasons were binged-watched with enthusiasm.

And for the curious, all shows are available for streaming on You Tube.

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Panicking, I did what all millennials know how to do very well – I called my mom and cried about it.

She reassured me, told me it was one little date and asked how I would I feel if I was stood up on national television.

As I climbed the stairs, I was hoping for two things: not to fall on my face and for there to be a bucket of wine for me at the top of the stairs.

The cameras made me more insecure than I was before, and I knew the only thing that would immediately ease it was booze.

So cute, in fact, that when the producer asked me to describe my perfect man, I flirtatiously described the cute one pointing the camera at me.

“He’s tall, but not too tall that I have to keep these on to kiss him,” I divulged.

So I kicked my purse over four feet, splashed a little of my wine on the floor in haste and started to have the same, redundant conversation. When he asked me what I wanted to order, I replied, “More white wine – let’s get Aunt drunk.” And so we did.

We ordered at such speed it was like we were nuns out of the convent for the night and had just tasted tequila for the first time.

I thought it was odd until the cute Maître D’ showed up with another girl to the table and told me he got my name wrong.

Alamir was supposed to be on a date with the girl to his left, and I was supposed to be on a date with the lonely guy who kept looking at me.

I recommend the Australian versions of each of these shows — the contestants are cruder and hornier, making for a higher pedigree of entertainment.