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five minutes after meeting her, she went into a graphically detailed spiel about how her father sexually abused her as a child. and she was very upbeat, happy, and smiling as if it was a delightfully fond memory the entire time.
I dont know what the end of the story is because by the time she got about, what i hope, was a quarter of the tway through, I had already been so completely creeped and skeezed out that I had developed a cold sweat, and I just got up from the table, said nope, and walked away.
I was kinda fucked up for a short while afterwards.
It's good to be open with a prospective partner but my God at least wait till the appetizer gets to the table.
bro, it was not the openness, it was the gleeful aplomb.
Like, imagine a 7 year old telling a story about their first trip across country to a major theme park, where they got to spend a day with their favorite princess, and how, even 40 years later, thats a story they tell with great joy, and a big smile?
Only replace the trip and princess with what she said her dad did.
It was fucking unsettlingly creepy.