My friend Cameron is not dramatic by nature, so I was right to be alarmed when he texted me a close-up photo of his frowning face, accompanied by the words: “Hey, just wondering why you hate me?”

I’m not sure what it says about the state of my conscience, but rather than thinking, “Oh, no, what’s he on about?” I instead jumped to “Oh dear, what’s he heard?”

My first thought concerned a recent joke I’d made at his expense about a shirt he’d worn being from Gorman (it was loud and covered in patterns). I’d felt bad afterwards and even worse now, so the time had come to apologise via text. “Is this about the Gorman thing? Sorry, man!” Almost immediately, the reply came: “What Gorman thing? No, it’s because you refuse to watch the show Dave despite the fact I know you will LOVE it.”

If sharing is caring, why won’t you watch, read or listen to the thing I specifically mentioned to you, hoping our shared appreciation of it would bond us for eternity?Credit: Michael Howard

For the last year, he had been consistently recommending I watch Dave, a comedy about a neurotic, mid-20s suburbanite convinced that he’s destined to be one of the greatest rappers of all time.

Ostensibly, the recommendation was based on Cameron’s (probably correct) assumption that the series hits many of my specific interest points (delusional man with issues seeks greatness) and........

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