NIKKI & JOE, CASUALLY | updates every monday

38: solution: MILFs

            Can't say I've ever gone on a date where we sit across from each other on the floor dressed in our boxers but Joe's smile don't need long to ease me into it. I'm just high enough that my attention span allows me to forget this isn't real seconds after each time I remember it. Why get your heart broken once when it could happen three times a minute?

'Tell me about yo–' Joe interrupts herself by blowing a raspberry. 'Okay no, that sounds too much like a job interview. I've not been on a date since 2013.'

My chin drops to my chest, cheeks aching with my grin. 'What good am I getting out of you then?'

'I'm going to be a sex and relationships therapist, sir.' Grimacing, she lifts a hand to stop me before I can speak. 'That was weird. I am very much indeed high. Anyways, you're the one who keeps telling me I'd be a "mint therapist", so let me put my knowledge to some use!'

Timid suggestion: She might have a point; I do keep telling her that. This might actually be helpful for me—it can't be pure coincidence I keep finding people like Michael and Aziat and... everyone I've gone on more than one date with. But here's a new drinking game: Take a shot every time I have the chance to tell Joe about my parents and decide not to take it.

Joe pulls the bowl of crisps we forgot about approximately an hour ago to her side and chews one as she comes up with a question. 'Let's start easy: what is your favourite film?'

'Princess Mononoke. And White Chicks.'

'Your favourite film of all time is White Chicks?'

'It's dead hilarious, it is!' I drag the crisps in front of me instead, grabbing a handful. Is this a second wave of the munchies or am I stress eating? 'Also anything with Angela Bassett. She's my hall pass. I'm not usually into feminine people but Angela...'

'Isn't she sixty? You could literally be her grandson.'

I stare at Joe as I chuck crisps into my mouth one at a time. 'I'm waiting for you to arrive at a point.' My deadpan façade crumbles instantaneously. 'You?'

'Cate Blanchett.'

'No, I–' I bite down my laugh. 'I meant your favourite film.'

'Oh.' Joe starts to giggle and once she starts it takes her until she's gasping for breath to get it under control. 'To be honest, I don't really watch films. I'm a telly person.'

'Favourite series then?'

'I wanna say Insecure but probably BBC Merlin.' Seeing my expression, she jumps to her own defence: 'At least it's not BBC Sherlock. Elementary all the way! I'm so gay for Lucy Liu as Watson, that was the best casting decision ever made.'

'I think I've figured out the problem. We're both supposed to be going for women at least twice our age.'

'Probably would be the solution.' Joe pulls the crisp bowl closer but leaves it halfway between us. 'Oh, also Bake Off. Who doesn't like Bake Off?' I nibble on my crisps and her jaw falls to the floor. 'You don't like Bake Off?'

'Everyone finds it so bloody soothing but it stressed me out too much. My cortisol levels are high enough without worrying that someone's pastries won't rise or that they'll drop their cake on the floor. And I feel bad when someone gets bad critiques.'

Joe continues to stare at me like I've just tossed all her sex toys in the bin. 'Do you at least watch Strictly?'

'I'm not a complete barbarian.'

Lips pursed, she evaluates my position. Then she shrugs and moves on to the next question: 'What do you think about therapy?'

'How'd we get from Bake Off to therapy?' I baulk. 'Is this summat you often ask on first dates?'