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I'm not interested in the boring banker types that make up the bulk of her clients.
She tells me I seem to have narrowed my options to Paul Mc Cartney but, rather valiantly, accepts the challenge to help me find Mr Right. Once a client has been interviewed and then vetted - Mairead visits them at home, checking out passports and, if necessary, decree absolutes - she will then introduce them to prospective partners all over the world (rich people, it seems, have no truck with annoying things like distance and time zones).
With such a terrible track record, I started to realise that, if I couldn't meet someone when I was in my prime, how on earth was I going to meet someone now I'm 50?
My friend Kerry, tired of my moaning, had told me about an upmarket dating agency that takes on only high-achieving rich people.
The tribunal heard the man in question talked about 'previous introductions and how terrible they were' and said he was travelling overseas until February so would 'not be available until after that time.'For Ms Daly, this confirmed that signing up in the new year could have been a better choice.
The self proclaimed lifestyle coach and online trainer made multiple claims against the agency and its founder, including misleading and deceptive conduct under the Australian Consumer Law on the basis the agency did not present her with 'amazing men'.
Until now, I always thought people who resort to dating agencies must be a little desperate. I have never before even been set up by friends or been on a blind date.
But then I reached the first anniversary of my divorce and, much to my surprise, having sworn off men for life, I started to wonder, with the prospect of a great big yawning new year stretching ahead of me, whether there might be someone out there for me and, if so, how on earth am I going to find him?
'But him not paying for things was not the deal breaker. I'm a romantic in that I expect the man I'm with not to even look at other women - to be like my dad, in other words - but then I come over all feminist if he attempts to pay for dinner. I'd feel like a prostitute.' Mairead says I am, compared to her other female clients, all of whom want to be looked after by a man, very unusual.
I feel as though I'm about to sit my A-levels all over again. Mairead phones to tell me about M, who is 46, in wealth management, whatever that is, and a divorced father of two grown-up boys. We agree to meet the following night in the bar at Claridges. I buy a black lace skirt and silver platforms from Prada, and get my hair done.
I tell him I have dark hair, and will be wearing purple Burberry platforms. I invest in a Hollywood wax, and an all-over light sheen of fake tan.
But after what she deemed a nightmare first date, which involved her 'very negative' potential suitor 'speaking about himself the whole time,' Ms Daly requested a refund.
Originally hoping to meet a 'like-minded, ambitious, successful, professional' man, she was disappointed when her date showed no interest in her, was 'not passionate about his job', was 'ashamed' of his family, and made offensive comments about her car.
Subsequently, she paid the 12 month membership fee of $4,995, under the pretense she would meet between 8‑10 'amazing men' throughout the course of the year.