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Dating these days is like navigating a minefield. You swipe right, you swipe left, and then someone sends you a message that says, "Or are you just happy to see me?" Now, I don't know if this is a pickup line or if autocorrect is playing matchmaker. But hey, maybe I've been doing it all wrong – perhaps the key to finding true love is decoding cryptic text messages. And the emojis! Don't get me started on the emojis. If someone sends me a smiley face with heart eyes, is that a declaration of love, or are they just really happy about pizza? I can't keep up with this modern romance.
Maybe we should bring back the good old days when you knew someone was interested because they sent a carrier pigeon to deliver a handwritten love letter. At least then, you didn't have to decipher whether they were just happy to see you or if they were genuinely excited about your company.
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You ever notice how in the big city, people are always in a rush? I walked down the street the other day, and someone bumped into me, and I said, "Hey, watch where you're going!" And they replied, "Or are you just happy to see me?" I mean, come on! I'm just trying to get to the coffee shop without becoming part of a live-action version of bumper cars. It's like everyone's got this invisible shield of indifference. You could be on fire, and people would just sidestep you with a latte in hand, going, "Sorry, I've got a meeting to catch. Maybe someone at the office has a fire extinguisher."
Seems like our manners have taken a back seat to our busy schedules. Next time someone asks if I'm happy to see them, I'm going to reply, "No, I'm just thrilled to survive this urban obstacle course!
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You know, sometimes I feel like I'm living in an optical illusion. I held the door open for someone at the office, and they looked at me and said, "Or are you just happy to see me?" I thought I was being polite, but now I'm questioning whether I accidentally stumbled into a romance novel cover photoshoot. I mean, isn't holding the door just common courtesy? Are we so conditioned to expect the worst that when someone is nice, we assume they've got ulterior motives? Next time, I'm going to let the door slam shut and watch as they try to decode that message.
It's like we're all walking around with this built-in skepticism filter. Maybe I should start wearing a T-shirt that says, "No, it's not happiness; I'm just genetically predisposed to politeness.
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So, the other day, I'm at the grocery store, right? And the cashier hands me the receipt and says, "Or are you just happy to see me?" Now, I don't know if she's flirting or if the receipt printer is just malfunctioning. Maybe it's printing love notes now. Who knows? I mean, I'm all for customer service, but let's keep it professional. I just wanted to buy some cereal and milk, not get involved in a checkout lane romance. I can imagine telling my grandkids, "Kids, that's how I met your grandma – over a gallon of 2% milk and a box of Cheerios."
Maybe the real question is, are we all just so starved for human connection that even inanimate objects are trying to hit on us? I can't wait for the day my toaster asks me, "Or are you just happy to see me?" I'll be like, "No, toaster, I'm just hungry for some toast.
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