After the 250th Failed Blind Date

Chris, just a few months older than me, had always been close to me. He now worked in New York City.

At this moment, he was crying so hard.

My great-great-great-great-great-grandmother, burning with curiosity, urged me, "Emma, ask him what's wrong!"

I wasn't in a hurry and casually blew dust off my freshly painted nails.

Finally, Chris stopped crying and spoke up. "Emma…"

I looked up. "Spit it out."

"Actually, I like men."

"That was pretty obvious."

My great-great-great-great-great-grandmother burst into laughter. "It really was."

Chris looked shocked.

I added, "Don't be shocked. Just tell me why you're crying."

He replied, "Grandma found out and has been brewing herbal medicine for me, claiming it can 'cure' me."

Something didn't feel right.

The topic and the recent conversation in my mind seamlessly connected. My heart skipped a beat.

Chris continued, "I came here to tell you that relocating the ancestral grave wasn't just because of your endless failed blind dates, but also because my brother wants to be childfree, I like men, and one of our uncle's daughters is a lesbian while the other claims she will never get married."

I was dumbfounded.

So was my great-great-great-great-great-grandmother.

Well, this story just got interesting.

I grabbed some snacks and said as I ate, "Go on. Why are you looking at me?"

Chris glared at me. "You're such a nosy woman. Don't you know that Claire likes you?"

Claire is my lesbian cousin.

I couldn't believe I was getting involved in this.

I choked on the snacks, coughing like crazy.

Chris patted my back and clarified, "Just kidding. Don't die on me."

Thanks, now I want to cut ties with you all.