Dave Christie-Millar

Reveal all about centennials from dating to politics

announcement, he wants to himself down into the Thames.

Looking for a casual escape from the dating game and a spot of adventure somewhere in between Zones 1-6, Max joined a threesome app. But he got bamboozled after being presented with more options for defining one’s sexuality than you could shake a turmeric bulb at. Now he’s been forced to seriously question his sexuality. “Do I qualify for pansexual? What about polysexual? Maybe I’m heteroflexible during the week and homoflexible at the weekends. What is the difference between omnisexual or autosexual?” Sexuality has become a Dulux colour palette of choice. When a group of Max’s friends started discussing how gay they might be as a percentage (as you do), he was forced to make a decision. “I’m 20 per cent gay,” he declared, on a bus to Kennington.

Work it

flush

Top grads (which we are not) are shunning the 27-floor behemoth corporates and choosing to join startups. Hello to in-house baristas and edible business cards. As a start-up foot soldier, Max can say that the best thing about working for a start-up is that you can say “I work for a start-up” to anyone. “Excuse me,” he inquires of a passer-by on Regent Street, “did I mention I work at one of London’s leading start-ups?”

For him, working in a shared work space felt like a version of The Crystal Maze, but with a lot less cash flying about. The only things flying around where he worked were ping-pong balls and the steady whiff of newly applied beard oil. At least now he’s an expert at cleaning the office fish tank and chairing conference calls behind the marquee at family weddings.

When the hamster wheel of start-up life began to spin out of control, he gave Oscar-winning performances to family and friends to reassure them it was all going marvellously, before crying on the shoulder of the Deliveroo cyclist who had finally turned up outside the office.

Political animals

When it comes to politics, us two Avo-Gen falafel eaters know we’re both embarrassed and guilty about growing up in a middle-class Tory utopia.

After being slapped wide awake by the Brexit-Trump 2016 there was only one thing to do: we voted Labour. For Dave, it’s also thanks to grime artists like JME getting involved in its campaign that swayed him. Max would have preferred Chris Martin.

Ironically, despite our proud salute to the left in the recent election, the next week we both found ourselves dodging an ambush from a charity collector outside Highbury and Islington station before buying a pint of cocktail saucissons at £8 a pop at our favourite gentrified pub.

In this jittery new world, we’re completely addicted to news. It’s a rush. Max admits to collecting new news sites like he used to collect Pokémon cards. Dave is waking up at 4.30am desperately clucking for his news fix. Maybe we both need help. In this futile quest for truth, the reality is us two Brits have no idea what we believe and will change our allegiance depending on the last compelling article we read from anywhere on the political spectrum, from anywhere in the world.

With all of this going on it’s no surprise that we feel anxious. But what the hell. Let’s keep listening to Stephen Fry narrating The Prisoner of Azkaban late at night. Here’s to becoming a shaky, sweaty mess at ashtanga yoga on Thursday evenings. Hooray for doing meditation on the Central line, and spending most of it thinking about sex. Yes, don’t worry at all. All we need to do in the post-Brexit Marxist apocalypse Britain that awaits is to splash our begged cash on organic, lactose-free asparagus sorbet.

Max and Dave’s comedy sketch show Avocado! is at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe, August 2-27.

Book tickets at:tickets.edfringe.com/ whats-on/avocado

‘Do I qualify as pansexual? Or am I heteroflexible at weekends? What does autosexual really mean?’