I'm on a date with a man who has just given me a tub of hummus. 'I thought you might like a gift,' he says, smiling as if he's just handed me a box from Cartier.
We're at a wine bar in central , surrounded by candles and glasses of French wines neither of us can pronounce. 'Thank you,' I reply, quickly hiding it away in the corner of the table so that people can't see it.
To be fair, I did mention hummus on my Hinge profile ('This year I really want to . . . eat hummus'). 'Well, I thought you might appreciate it, and it reflects our age difference,' he adds, with a smirk.
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