I unlock my phone and tap out a reply.

Not brilliant, to be honest. But I guess that’s what makes the evenings all the sweeter x

Within a minute or so, he’s sent me another message.

Oh no. Hope all’s OK…? x

Yeah, all fine, I reply. Just the usual work stuff! Hope your day is going better x

I don’t like to jump the gun, but he’s doing all the right things. He’s kind, attentive, communicative — all without being creepy or going overboard.

I take the opportunity to touch up my makeup. I don’t wear a lot, but the act of applying it somehow tends to make me feel better.

As I do so, I hear my phone buzz.

Would it make you feel better if you had something to look forward to? x

I think I know what he’s getting at, but I decide to play dumb.

Such as? x

His reply comes barely ten seconds later.

Would you like to grab a drink somewhere tonight? x

I look at the words on the screen in front of me, unsure how to reply. Would I like to? Yes. Obviously. Do I think I should? I’m less sure. I’m not in the habit of meeting people I’ve only been speaking to on an app for a couple of days, but at the same time he does seem like a genuinely nice person. And anyway, what harm can come of a quick drink in a local — public — bar? I’m in no more danger than I would be if I just happened to bump into him while out. He’s an actual person, after all. I’m not some sort of supernatural proxy which is going to enable his crossing over from The Internet to The Real World.

Why the hell not, I tell myself. I’ve had enough of the mundanity of the day — the week — and he’s right: it will give me something to look forward to. What harm has a little spontaneity ever done anyone?

Sure. Where were you thinking? x

As far as I’m concerned, this is the real test of a man. I like someone who can take control, make decisions. If he comes back asking me where I’d like to go, he loses a point. If he makes a suggestion or takes some sort of positive action, it’s game on.

His reply arrives.

Brownlow Arms, 8pm? x

A place and a time. And it’s local to me — to both of us, I assume. His Tinder profile said we were 4km away from each other. At least I can be pretty sure there won’t be two Brownlow Armses around there.

Perfect. See you then x

I smile. I can already feel my day getting better.

3

The Brownlow Arms used to be a dark and dingy country pub, but it’s recently been spruced up to become a light and airy gastropub. It’s not exactly in the country, either, rather nestled in a small hamlet between two smallish towns. It’s the sort of place that’d never survive if it didn’t do food, which I guess is one of the saving graces of the rise of the gastropub.