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Until Undeath Do Us Part: The TV Show

| USA | Boyfriend/Girlfriend, Zombies

Me: “What would you do if I become a zombie?”

Boyfriend: “I’d become a zombie as well.”

Me: “That’s it?”

Boyfriend: “I suppose we can solve crimes together?”

Me: “Er, what? How?”

Boyfriend: “There’s a show where zombies have visions of the person’s memories when they eat brains. The main character works in the morgue, eats the brains of murder victims, and solves the crime.”

Related:
Until Undeath Do Us Part, Part 70
Until Undeath Do Us Part, Part 69
Until Undeath Do Us Part, Part 68

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No… One… Dates Like Gaston

| USA | Dating

(I’m on a first date with a guy who seemed nice enough before this. He’s made several comments like, “You’re pretty smart for a girl,” so I’m uncomfortable and looking for an opportunity to leave without being rude. Somehow, the topic of children comes up. I can’t have children due to a medical condition and don’t want them anyway.)

Date: “Yeah, I think I’d want three kids. It’s a good number, not too many, not too few.”

Me: “Well—”

Date: *cutting me off* “The first would be a boy, of course. He’d be named after me. I’m named after my father, so he’d be [Date] III. For the other two, I’m thinking David and Stephanie.”

Me: “I—”

Date: *cutting me off again* “I’d send them to [Private School] instead of a public school with everyone else. My sons would play football, like me.”

(This continues for quite a while. He apparently has his possible future children’s lives entirely planned out in detail, and just keeps talking even if I try to say something. Eventually, he gets through the plan.)

Me: “That’s… very thought out.”

Date: “And of course my wife would be a stay at home mom.” *looks at me expectantly*

Me: *no longer caring about being rude* “Good luck finding someone for that. It’s getting late. I should be going now.”

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Didn’t Make The Cut

| Houston, TX, USA | Dating

(When I was 22, I went through a really bad break up. My mother decides that I immediately need to get back into the dating game. She sets up a match.com account with my picture and sets me up on some blind dates. Her taste in men has always been pretty terrible, and I consider this moment the definitive proof of her bad taste.)

Date: “Do you have any tattoos?”

Me: “Yeah, I have one.”

Date: “That doesn’t work for me. I’m just going to have to cut off your skin there.”

(Needless to say, he didn’t get a second date, although he kept calling me and sending me XXX explicit text messages afterwards. I had to have one of my guy friends answer the phone and tell him he had a wrong number to get him to leave me alone.)

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Blood Is Fatter Than Water

| CA, USA | Golden Years

(We’re all sitting down and my cousin and I are talking about blood type. I ask my dad, who is more on the heavy side, what blood type I am and this is how the conversation goes.)

Me: “What blood type am I?”

Dad: “O.”

Me: “How do you know? What blood type are you?”

Dad: “B.”

Me: “Really?”

Dad: “C.”

Me: “There is no C.”

Dad: “Oh, then BC.”

Mom: *out of nowhere* “Yeah, he’s obesity.”

Dad: “I love you, too.”

(We’re still seated at the buffet while I’m typing this…)

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I Think It Would Be Best If You Cleave

| MI, USA | Flirting

(I am a bartender at a restaurant that has a lot of regular customers. I work mostly at night, and most of the regular bar customers are older men who often hit on staff and make inappropriate and sexist comments. Some examples of things customers have said to me: “You should be a kept a woman. Someone should take you away and take care of you.” “You have beautiful lips.” “You have a beautiful clavicle.” “I like watching your back while you work.” Once a customer didn’t even say anything, just looked me up and down and made a humping motion. This one was directed at my coworker, who was expo and food-runner for the night.)

Coworker: *setting the customer’s food on the bar* “Here is your pasta, sir.”

Customer: *leaning forward and leering* “I just wanted to tell you, you have really beautiful cleavage.”

(My coworker gives him a “F*** You” look and walks back to the kitchen. I just stand there speechless.)

Customer: *looks at me* “Was that inappropriate?”