I arrived at the cozy little café in Greenwich Village for my first Hinge meetup with Tom, who, according to his profile, once climbed Mount Kilimanjaro and made the world's best lasagna—both impressive feats, if you ask me. As soon as I walked in, I spotted him in the corner. He waved with a grin that lifted one side of his face more than the other. We exchanged the usual pleasantries and settled into a chatter about our jobs, the weather, why New York bagels are inherently superior, you know, the usual. Halfway into our conversation—and right before he could deliver what looked like an expertly timed punchline—Tom suddenly reached into his jacket pocket, looked at me with wide eyes, and said, “Oh my god, I lost it!” Concerned, I blurted out, “What did you lose?” scanning the floor around us for a dropped item. “My lucky penny! I've had it since I was eight. It's lucky because it stopped me from winning a goldfish at a carnival," he said. Before I could inquire further, Tom was on his knees, checking under the table with the fervor of someone looking for a contact lens in a snowstorm. Meanwhile, I did the only logical thing—I clicked around on my phone and started searching for nearby pet stores as backup. As it turns out, he found the penny wedged between the pages of the menu. Triumphant, Tom declared it meant good