Dressed in my usual monochrome, this time with a pop of lip colour (but not enough to risk the under-lip), I find I’m actually quite nervous; I’m entering territory I haven’t entered in a while – I’m going to a boy’s house for a date. I didn’t think this would be suggested until the third date at the earliest. But surely just because I said yes to him cooking me dinner at his apartment doesn’t mean I’m saying yes to everything. Or does it? I hope it doesn’t. Me and my dead vagina aren’t ready for that.

But how much do I really know about dating these days? Despite my recent flurry it would appear I am still very naive. Just this morning I overheard a shocking conversation at work about the necessity of getting your anal tone checked out ahead of a date. And whoever this woman was talking to didn’t seem shocked at all. Instead, all she said, very casually, was, ‘I think that is wise. And a doctor would be able to tell you. You don’t want to rely on anyone less than a professional for these things.’

Sitting close to the kitchen comes with both advantages and disadvantages.

And yet, despite this, I’m still on my way to the date. I pop his address into Google Maps and get a seat on the tube. I’m sure it’s a sign that this evening will go well – until I’m met with another passenger’s crotch in my face. It’s the most crotch I’ll be getting tonight but it’s hard to really enjoy it.

I only go the wrong way once on the walk from the station to Toby’s place, so I’m feeling pretty smug as I arrive. I ring the doorbell with a hint of a smile on my face.

After some scuffling noises at the door, I see Toby. In truth I see more of Toby than I was bargaining for. He’s wearing an open dressing gown (a little weird, but maybe fine) with his manhood dunked into … a can of coconut milk? This is not fine.

The hint of smile drops from my face.

‘Bea! Welcome! Come in, come in.’ He opens the door a fraction wider to make room for me to squeeze by. ‘So, I realize this looks unusual, but I’ve had a bit of a nightmare and didn’t want to leave you out in the cold.’ I am glued to the doorstep. ‘Please come in. I won’t be a second.’ He scampers away with his dressing gown flowing out rather majestically behind him. He shouts back at me, ‘If you could shut the door behind you.’

I step inside and shut the door, too stunned to do anything but follow simple instructions. I can already feel Captain Hindsight preparing his ‘I told you so’ speech. But alas, I ignore him and follow Toby further into his lair.

I walk through to an empty kitchen. I can only assume Toby has retreated to the safety of a bedroom. There’s a box of food on the counter, partly unpacked, and some of the ingredients are simmering away on the stove.