A cold, dark, drizzling Tuesday evening in November, which began much like any. That was until logging off from the work laptop, to notice a Reddit chat request.

“A chat request? Why? I’ve not posted anything to warrant a chat recently, have I? Surely it’s not related to a month old post?”

The preview showed nothing more than “Can you give me a ride ? I’m stuck :)” from a blank profile. There’s normally a certain thrill, if you will, when you receive a chat request after posting an R4R, but this was different. It was random. It was unnerving. Against my better judgment, I accepted. Following a brief exchange of you explaining how the football has messed up with your usual mode of transport, you send your location.

Usually, with an internet meet, there would be some level of verification. But due to your predicament, my decision has to be hasty. Do I have a regular Tuesday night, chilling watching TV, or plunge in to the unknown, to chase the exhilaration that comes with it? The perceived eternal wrestle lasts only seconds before I reply “on my way.”

The time between snatching up my keys from the dresser, to pulling up by the post box shown on the Google Street View, could have been 10 minutes or 110 minutes. At first I don’t see you and assume I’ve been wound up. The relief and disappointment come in equal measures. In the moment of debating whether to message, wait or drive off, I miss you approaching and knocking on the passenger window. Rolling down the window, I’m greeted with the slyest of smiles, and large alluring eyes in a face nestled by damp frizzing hair. “Jack? I’m Jill.” Instinctively I reach across and open the door.

The faintest hint of the perfume you applied this morning fills the car. Followed quickly by the weight of tension. There was no time to chat or set expeditions, so this is just a ride filled with awkward small talk, that would be forgotten as suddenly as it happened.

You thank me as we pull up in the car park you gave directions to, yet you quickly and eloquently, in a motion that would normally feel impossible, straddle me. As the confusion and panic pass, I realise it wasn’t this car park, but me that was the destination.

So Jill, what do you say?