I met Adam on Bumble in September, because I’m a feminist. I was in London, and he had a British accent, and the world felt alive. It was still sunny, and to me, pounds were equivalent to dollars, and everything was flavored by elderflower and rose. We met on a Wednesday, in Hackney, and I walked through a back alley to get to Hatch Coffee, which looked just indie enough. Adam was waiting outside, in a burgundy sweater and the black jeans I would soon give him shit for (why would you ever wear black when you could wear dark wash denim and maybe even roll the cuffs and actually look like an adult man?), and we made the awkward introductions. He hugged me, which I would never typically accept, but perhaps this is what people who meet on the internet do, and I, a foreigner, would give my origins away.