Food....

James and Nicola were out on a first date. They were both on the scratch and didn't have much money but James had been saving up for weeks to treat his date. The only restaurant he still could afford was Pizza Express and they waited at the brown wooden swing door for a fake Italian waiter to come up to them.

“Table for two please”, said James, and he held his hand out tentatively to see If Nicola would take it for him to guide her to the table. He waited in anticipation, not sure if she would or wouldn't but finally she did, it was just a shame his hand was now sweaty and clammy from the nervousness.

They sat down and ordered a pizza each and bottle of Merlot, James was conscious of the bill but didn't want to seem stingy when his date ordered. He had to keep at least a ten spot in his ball for the tip, just as a final impression to set him over the cliff he hoped.

They ate in good spirits, the restaurant was full of other diners and the chefs were clearly visible at the back of the restaurant spinning dough, and making their toppings. The old Pizza Express used to have a Jazz band every Tuesday night but that was long gone now. It was just the sound of chewing and talking and the constant refilling of his dates glass as she got drunker and drunker through the meal. Not that James minded, he hoped it would lead on but he could never be sure. This was the first date he had for ages and he looked forward to the deserts and his favourite pudding, Tiramisu.

The waiter delivered two plates of his favourite dish and he tucked in to the creamy topping, savouring the sweet sticky taste.

“I love Tiramisu”, he said to Nicola, “I've always loved the taste of it, can't get enough”. He looked up and smiled at her as she shakingly took another sip from her glass of wine.

“What about you, you lighty or not lighty” he said trying to do an impression of the game show, Take Me Out.

“Well I've just eaten a load of cheese, I don't really like too much” she replied.

“Cheese, what are you on about?” Said James confused at her reply.

“Mascarpone”, she said, “It's cheese, didn't you know?”. James looked at her shocked. Cheese?

What was she on about. “Tiramisu,it's made from Mascarpone cheese" Nicola repeated.

James was disgusted. Cheese, in his favourite dish. The thought had never crossed his mind. His favourite dish was now ruined forever. The idea that he had been eating cheese for desert was an oddly sickening idea and he felt his stomach wretch a tick.

James left the rest of his ex-favourite pudding on the plate. His date had ruined it forever.

“So are we going back to your place then?”, said Nicola unexpectedly, probably drunk from the near full bottle of wine she had drunk.

“Fuck off” he replied, “I feel sick, sorry”. He threw a bundle of ten spots and a score on the table but kept the tip money in his hand as he left the table with his date staring at him dumbfounded.

Screw the screw, he felt sick as a pig and wanted to just throw up.

The thought of cheddar and Brie swirled around his mind and he couldn't believe no-one had told him this all his life.

Cheese was fine as a pizza topping but definitely not as a pudding. He left the Pizzeria and his date as he walked out the restaurant alone to find the nearest bin to chuck up in.

Blind dates, they never work out he kept thinking in his mind between images of cheese boards and Dairy Lea triangles waving the tip money in the air at the taxi rank.

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