'Did you know that the average child laughs more than 100 times a day while an adult manages just 16 times,' I say, relaying a fact I'd gleaned from an extended internet browse that morning.
Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha,' says Geoff, next to me at the café window table. 'There, that's half a day done. Now can we get back to Wilson, please?'
I wince as I run Geoff once again through the events leading up to the unbelievably awkward pavement meeting the previous week: the pub introduction to Wilson by my friend Meg, the Guinness and rum chasers, the stumble back to my flat and the decision to showcase my new dancing shoes by performing an impromptu tap routine to Dolly Parton's much underrated Dolly Dolly Dolly.
'Was Dolly really the right choice?' says Geoff.
'Clearly not,' I say, although I'm still unsure as to why, in the middle of a rum-shaky sideways shuffle, thoughts of my ex slid into my head and I burst into tears and told Wilson to leave.
'He obviously thinks I'm unhinged,' I say, 'he couldn't get away quick enough when we bumped into him.' I rub my left arm. The whole episode has caused an unprecedented outbreak of flaking and I now have visions of the psoriasis spreading over my entire body so that I qualify to be featured on one of those Channel 5 programmes about people with extreme skin conditions. Like Dede the Indonesian fisherman, aka Half Man Half Tree whose limbs erupted in gnarled bark-like growths that grew so big he couldn't fit into normal clothes anymore. Even though the programme was broadcast some time ago, I still think about Dede quite a lot.
'What's with the agent?' I ask, keen to move away from the subject of Wilson and flaking.
Geoff sighs and tells me that since forwarding the final rejection letters, his agent has been avoiding all calls.
'I may need to stalk him,' he says cheerfully.
Behind us, the yoga women - there are 3 of them today - are talking about 'energy' and the importance of raising their vibration. They talk about this quite a lot.
'Ha ha ha ha,' says Geoff, ticking off each Ha on the fingers of his left hand. 'Nearly there now.'
I glance down at my watch and drain my coffee. I have to interview an American life coach whose recently published book 'Discover your Life Purpose' is selling by the barn-load. I'm not keen on life coaches and find all that punchy, motivational talk both irritating and exhausting. At the same time I wouldn't mind being told what my life purpose is, given that it has eluded me for all of my 38 years.
I tell Geoff I am off to discover the reason for my existence.
'Ha ha ha ha,' he says triumphantly.