I’m on a roll now and I can’t stop, so I keep going. My hands are flapping everywhere, and I’m at risk of spilling the wine.

‘But I can’t keep going through life like a zombie. I want to work for myself. I want to cut myself out a little piece of the world, a unique identity that is totally mine. I want to work at something that actually feels like me, something more creative, more challenging.’

I breathe slightly more deeply. Michelle is looking at me. She’s either processing all the words I just threw up or she’s working out an escape route.

‘Oh, and I’ve also just realized that I fancy my best friend.’

I feel lighter than I have in months. My jaw has even stopped clenching.

‘Sorry. I think I might have taken that a bit too far.’ I look down at my glass. How strong is this wine?

‘No, you didn’t. I get it. I come from a family of lawyers. I studied law at university. I even got a first. And then I decided what I really wanted to do was own a shop, where everything was an item I had picked out and curated.’

‘How did that go down?’

‘At first, not well. But now they see I’m happy.’ She smiles. ‘I think they needed some time to come to terms with the idea that their version of happy wasn’t necessarily mine.’

She’s right. Someone else’s version of happy isn’t necessarily my version of happy.

I am going to stop going to yoga.

‘So, what is it that you actually want to do?’

Maybe kickboxing?

Despite wanting to be more confident, I can’t help the slight insecure grimace that I make. ‘It sounds ridiculous, but I make cards – as in greeting cards. Mainly funny ones, plays on words. They’re for the sophisticated pun maker.’ I try to pull a sophisticated face.

I expect her to nod in general understanding, but instead she asks, ‘Do you have any on you?’

‘Yes, actually I do. These are some I’ve been working on during my down-time at work.’ I rustle around for them in my bag and hand them over. ‘They’re mock-ups, but you can get a feel for them. High-quality paper, high-quality puns.’ I do a goofy grin and a shoulder shrug. Both came much more naturally than a sophisticated face.

She spends some time inspecting them, both the puns and the paper. She also sniffs them. Maybe I was too harsh on the lady at the fair. Maybe lots of people sniff cards.

‘These are actually pretty good. And funny. I was worried I was going to have to pretend to laugh.’

‘There are a lot of jokes that get culled for that very reason.’

‘Can I keep these?’

‘Sure. If you sell them, feel free to give me a fair share of the money.’

She just laughs. ‘Sure thing.’ She puts the cards into her bag. She looks like she’s about to leave.