Imagine going on a date with someone who seems perfectly normal. Throughout the course of the evening, you notice that they have a little vial around their neck.
“Oh, that, that’s just my ex husband’s blood.” says your date as she pours you another glass of wine. “When I’m not looking after my fifty six billion children, I’m busy learning how to knife throw and kissing my brother in a way that could only be described as really really creepy. What do you do in your spare time?”
I reckon it’d take you about ten seconds to make your ‘something bad happened’ excuse and get the hell out of there. Leaving your wallet, phone and passport behind if you had to. Run! Run away!
Unless you’re on a date with Angelina Jolie.
