SHORT king Oliver O’Connor, aged 29, neglected to mention his regal lack of stature to date Grace Wood-Morris, aged 32. Will she notice? 

Grace on Oliver

First impression?

Polite yet rude; he’d arrived early and was already seated at our table, but didn’t stand up to greet me. He just stayed sitting down and blew me a kiss.

How was conversation?

Bit odd. He began with a long explanation of they’d offered to seat him in the bar but their stools were ‘ridiculous’ and he wasn’t ‘clambering up them like an angry monkey’. Which I was baffled by, until I dropped a breadstick and realised his feet weren’t touching the floor.

Memorable moments?

I asked him how tall he is and he broke down and admitted he’s five foot two. He could hardly deny it. He said he clicked the wrong number on the app and was going to change it until the swipes came flooding in.

Favourite thing about Oliver?

His eyes aren’t always sliding away from mine down to my cleavage. Because my cleavage is his natural eyeline, but still.

A capsule description?

I wanted to reassure diners around us that we weren’t mother and son.

Was there a spark?

Yes. When he touched the fork, caused by the static from his M&S polyester school trousers. He explained that XS are too baggy on him.

What happened afterwards?

I walked him to the bus stop in case he got beaten up.

What would you change about the evening?

I wouldn’t have worn heels. No, scratch that: I would have worn five-inch heels to end it swiftly and emphatically.

Will you see each other again?

Literally not unless I’m looking downwards.

Oliver on Grace

First impression?

A statuesque goddess, towering above me at 5ft 7ins. I gazed up in awe and admiration like a pilgrim worshipping a fertility goddess.

How was conversation?

Good. I tried out several lines from Altitude Through Attitude: The Short Man’s Guide to Standing Tall. But she did say step three, ‘use your voice to take up vertical space’, made me sound like Brian Blessed reading the wine list.

Favourite thing about Grace?

That the difference between us is only five inches. In two senses.

Memorable moments?

The moment that will come back to me at 3am on sleepless nights is the flat, disgusted tone in which she said ‘Right. So you’re shorter than Prince was. But without his sexual charisma.’

A capsule description?

Poised, beautiful woman meets delusional hobbit.

Was there a spark?

Even if there had been, I would have put it out with my tears.

What happened afterwards?

I went in for a kiss and accidentally delivered a solid headbutt to her clavicle.

What would you change about the evening?

I would change the entire world. The laws of physics, Nazis winning the war, dogs playing poker for human lives if I could just be 12 inches taller.

Will you see each other again?

Doubt it. I consoled myself in the usual fashion: went to a pub, drank six pints, picked a fight with some giant twat and floored him.