Barely an hour in, the date was a catalogue of my red flags: she was late, already tipsy yet still drank most of the wine, had rubbish conversation and appalling table manners, ignored the waiter, but kept stroking my thigh under the table as if I was somehow gagging for her. I couldn't move my legs away in the "cosy" booth we'd been given.

For the first time ever on a date, I was actually cross. She was so unlike how our mutual acquaintance had described her, so unsuitable, so hopeless – both as a match for me and generally as a person – that I had gone beyond disappointment to annoyance. As her fingers slid under my dress hem one time too many, I knew I needed to gather my energy and find a way of ending the evening, so excused myself.

The drinks waitress – an attractive girl in tight black jeans, with a nice smile I vaguely recognised – intercepted me. "Not going well? Want me to get rid of her?" When I hesitated, she read my feelings in my eyes. She stroked my arm affectionately and nodded me towards the toilets. "Give me ten minutes."

When I emerged – makeup touched up, annoyance managed – the table was empty and cleared. From behind the small bar, the waitress indicated a free barstool and my refreshed wine glass.

I perched and sipped. "You save failing dates often?"

"Not usually." She flicked me a lingeringly conspiratorial smile: half-pity, half-affection? "But you deserve better."

"Well, thanks." I noticed her deft fingers as she finished off a cocktail for someone: her nails were painted the same indigo shade as her work blouse. I wouldn't mind them up my dress, I thought with a shiver of unexpected pleasure. Can I flirt with the girl who'd broken up my date? "I thought I was pretty desperate, but maybe I have some standards after all." I found my purse. "What do I owe?"

"All sorted, apart from that top-up. Presumed you'd need a little something."

"Cheers." I sipped, then studied her properly. Attractive, certainly, but something about her pretty eyes and gentle smile was also elusively familiar.

She caught me looking and held my eye for three beats too long. "Remember me?"

"Um..." I blushed.

"Three years ago, maybe? I was a student." She shrugged, still smiling. "New in town, new to the scene. You were in a cute dress then too." She glanced down me, approvingly. "Quite tipsy, very flirty. Snogged me randomly before your friends dragged you off somewhere."

"Gosh, sorry. That's...terrible." I watched her face, with her genuine smile and kind-but-insistent gaze. "Why help me out now?" I indicated the scene of the failed dinner-date.

"She's a cow." She leant in. "And an ex. It was fun making her pay and leave without getting anywhere with you." Her eyes flicked over my mouth and breasts. "Anyway, you kiss better. So now we've got another chance, fancy trying again? I knock off in an hour..."