This weekend something strange happened, Alexis Thompson went on a date with someone she actually liked.

It was a nice feeling actually, sitting there having dinner with someone who I didn’t just find physically attractive but who was pleasant company and interesting too.

French Guy had booked us a table at an uber trendy Indian restaurant with an over priced cocktail menu on Friday night.

So, all excited I slipped into my new summery dress and went off to meet him at Piccadilly Circus, silently praying that he was going to pick up the bill at the end of the night.

During the tube journey into central London something occurred to me, I didn’t have the faintest clue what French Guy looked like. I mean, I’d met and chatted to this man briefly in a nightclub the previous week, but I struggled to picture his face. Did he have brown eyes? Brown hair? Was he short? No, I seemed to remember him being quite tall. But that was all I could remember.

While lost in my own fantasy about how I’d actually like him to look, I felt a hand pat my shoulder as I stood waiting at Stockwell station to change to the Victoria line.

I turned around to see a tallish brown haired man, dressed in an over sized leather jacket and skinny jeans behind me. He looked very French.

“Alexis?”, he asked.

Suddenly I recognised him, it was French Guy. I got scared, and started to babble.

“Oh my gosh I’m so glad I met you here. You see I was worried that I wouldn’t recognise you and.....”, my voice trailed off. French Guy’s face fell.

“You wouldn’t recognise me?”, he said, his eyes clouding over with hurt.

Now I just felt terrible. “No, no...I mean, well I was quite drunk when we met in the nightclub. You know how it is right?”

French Guy shook his head slowly and I was ready to turn around with my tail between my legs, away from him and this whole embarrassing situation.

But then suddenly a huge grin began to spread across his face, revealing a dazzling set of white teeth and dimples in his cheeks. My heart melted a little.

“No problem. You like Indian food right?” he asked, the grin still lingering on his face as we boarded the train together.

On our way to the restaurant I discovered that French Guy had grown up in a small town just outside Paris, and he did seem very Parisian not only in the way he dressed but also in his mannerisms. There was a nonchalant air of sophistication surrounding him, which I felt very attracted to. It made him seem far more mature then any of the other men I’d dated recently.

He was a guy with good old fashioned manners, he held open doors for me, kept checking if I was ‘OK?’, and of course he picked up the bill at the end of the meal.

I liked French Guy, he seemed considerate, interesting and very keen on me. Occasionally he would learn forward, staring at me intensely with his serious brown eyes and then he would say something that sounded very French and my heart would flutter a little bit. It hasn't done that in a while, well not since I last checked my bank balance.

At the end of the night he asked if he could see me again the following day. In typical Alexis style, I got scared. My heart started pounding, my hands felt clammy and part of me wanted to run as fast as I could away from him. This was moving too quickly, could it possibly be the start of a relationship? I’m not very good at them, I reminded myself.

But then I looked at French Guy, his eyes wide, waiting for my response and realised that he was only asking me out on a second date. No big deal, just a trip to the cinema the next day. I could do that. I wanted to do that. So I said yes. I may be a little apprehensive about starting something new, but you’ve got to give these things a chance right?