If they ever create a GCSE in Having Awkward Conversations, I hope this conversation is included as part of the syllabus.
We had our first date in a lovely country pub. All was going well until:
Him: “I read something interesting in the newspaper this week.”
Him: “Apparently, the thing that determines how long you’re going to live isn’t what your parents died of, it’s how old they were when they died.”
Him: “Yes. My parents are still alive. How about yours?”
Me: “Errrrrrr, my mum’s still around. My dad died a while ago”
Him: “Really? How old was he and how did he die?”
Me: “Can we talk about something else, please?”
Him: “Don’t be shy, you can tell me!”
Me: “Really, I’d rather talk about something else.”
Him: “But it’s an interesting conversation!”
Me: “I don’t want to discuss it.”
Him: “Oh come on, this is fascinating stuff!”
Me: “Fine. He killed himself when he was 59. There you go. Happy now?”
Him: “Oh right. Did he kill himself for any particular reason? He didn’t have any genetic diseases or anything, did he?”
I made my excuses shortly afterwards and ended the date. He was keen to meet up again, but I couldn’t bear to find out what other delightful questions he was going to ask me.