A matter of perspective

His story
I'm fashionably late; she's early – keen. Maybe even desperate. Nice smile though. I let her talk about herself first, play it enigmatic; try not to make too much eye contact in case she thinks I'm staring. I nod a lot to show I'm interested in her brother's semi in Peterborough and his wife Sarah and their three tedious children's drama classes. Hallelujah, leaving the bar – practically had to prise her away. I realised I left my credit cards at home so I had to choose very carefully. Bound to expect me to pay for everything, I think. But no, wait, she's mentioned it; thank God for emancipation. We make small talk while we're waiting. I tell her my classic autobahn motorbike stories – she says I must be fearless. A good sign. The meal goes well – the food is good and there's plenty of it. She's more attractive than I first thought. By the time we get to coffee I'm starting to wonder if something may develop between us. I give her my mobile number, a polite kiss as she gets into a cab then it's home to the wife.

Her story
Eight o'clock he said and he couldn't even be bothered to get here on time. Then in he swans like he's God's gift to women. I smile at him – a false smile to mask my rage. Then I try and engage him in conversation to calm myself down. He doesn't say much and even when I'm speaking he's only half-concentrating. Can't even look me in the eye half the time. I share personal details about my brother's family to see how he feels about children but he just nods dumbly like one of those dogs in the back of a car. He's so hesitant about the meal that I wondered if he'd changed his mind. He spent his time ordering, obviously enjoys food – I like that in a date. I hope he doesn't think he has to pay for everything – I don't want to set any expectations. I set him straight and I think he looks a little disappointed. The food takes ages so we start chatting again. This time I say nothing, determined to tease something personal out of him. He's a boy racer on a bike! But at least he travels. Maybe he's too stupid to have any fear? Food arrives and fortunately there's so much of it that we don't have to talk for a while. He's not so bad. During the coffee I wonder how to bring up my husband. He gives me his number while I'm waiting for a cab – might be useful for an alibi.