You've Buttered Your Purebred

Story Sent in by Paula:

In one of our first emails over a dating site, Rob asked me, "I apologize if this is too personal, but are you interbred?"

I replied, "What do you mean? I don't understand."

He wrote back in his next email, "Sorry. Probably too personal a question. Don't go crazy about it."

I wasn't planning on it. On our date he took me to a local dive and asked me at the table, "I apologize if this is too personal, but are you interbred?"

"What does that even mean?"

He said, "Are you a mutt? Do you have parents from two different breeds?"

I said, "My father was a Clydesdale and my mother was a Rottweiler. Is that what you're asking?"

He laughed and said, "Not exactly. Are your parents German, Italian, Chinese—"

"Italian and Greek," I said, "And yours?"

"I'm a purebred!" he blurted, "You are a mutt! Oh wow! I don't think I've ever met one, before."

"Is that all right?" I asked. Or began to ask, as he stood up and laughed and left, like I was nothing at all.

When next I signed onto the site, I saw he had deleted his account. Or blocked me. Turns out I don't really care either way.