John* suggests a coffee (I'd rather wine but it's too late to say that now) so we decide to meet in a cute coffee shop not far from work. I'm already shaking and feeling extremely anxious, wondering why I ever agreed to this. I tell John I have a dinner later so I have an escape route should things go wrong. When he arrives, I kiss him on both cheeks and make a joke about being French; it breaks the ice the tiniest bit. He's shorter than I expected but at 5'4 I can't complain too much. It's all a bit awkward until he brings up that he's new to match too and we bond over the perils of online dating. We talk about music and family and conversation flows a little more. It's clearly not love at first sight but he's a lovely guy and we get on well enough. Conversation starts to dwindle so I mention dinner and we get the bill. I insist on splitting, we kiss again (on the cheek!) and leave. I feel totally drained but it was fun meeting someone new, which can be rare in your 30s. I pick up a pizza and head home to bed.