Bad dates are good material.

The dinner date was going well until he began to tell me about his “checklist.” He seemed very excited that I met many of his criteria, telling me quite earnestly that he wanted attractive, tall children and would do whatever it took to secure that. I’m 5′9”, and he said my height was a plus and he liked that I was slim. I tried to joke that he was making me sound like a brood mare, and he reached across the table, took my hand, and asked if, as the potential mother of his children, I would ever consider plastic surgery.