I joined quite a large dating agency three years ago, two years after I broke up with my husband, and I was given the whole glossy brochure treatment with a couple on the cover looking incredibly in love.
They promised to find me my perfect match, and wanted to know what my interests were, how far I'd want to travel and all sorts.
I remember Valentine's Day when I was 37: I'd just moved into a new house, bought brand new furniture, and should have felt happy. I called him on the Monday, met him on the Friday, and two weeks later we were engaged! But even if I hadn't met Colin, a dating agency would have been well worth the money for me.
For example, I met one perfectly nice bloke - very clever, polite, and friendly.
As it happened, there were more men than women on that particular occasion, so the lads got to sit prettily at the tables and we did the moving around, which, I reckon, contributed to my enjoyment, as it felt more dynamic.
I had a very nice evening filled with laughter and conversations with attractive professionals.
It was very frightening and I felt incredibly disillusioned.
I've tried internet dating agencies as well and I've had no luck whatsoever.
So I told them: I love the theatre, I'm a non-smoker, I'm romantic and I love a good chat.
But none of my matches had nothing even remotely in common with me.
I'm not joking, his eyes glazed over and he said he'd been taken to the land of knowledge where this dragon had sat him down and told him the meaning of life for eight hours.
He said he was telling me because he knew he could trust me.
One man they set me up with lived over three hours away by car which was unfeasible.