The Date That Peaked in Peculiar

Chloe was on a first date with Leo at a trendy cafe, slowly suffocating in a haze of polite small talk about artisanal bread and the merits of oat milk. Her internal monologue was a dramatic opera of despair: "Please, just *one* interesting fact, Leo! Just one!"

Then, mid-sentence about the optimal toastiness of rye, Leo leaned in conspiratorially. "You know," he whispered, "sometimes I feel like I was born in the wrong era. Like I should have been a medieval alchemist."

Chloe perked up, a spark of hope igniting. "Oh! Interesting! Like, you enjoy history?"

Leo nodded gravely. "More like, I *am* history. I firmly believe I was the inventor of the pre-heated oven. In 1472. It wasn't well-received. Peasants kept trying to bake rocks."

Chloe blinked, a latte drip freezing mid-air. "You... you think you invented the oven in 1472?"

"The *pre-heated* oven," Leo corrected, a serious glint in his eye. "The nuance is crucial. The lack of proper insulation, however, was my downfall. Also, the plague."

Chloe slowly lowered her lukewarm latte, suddenly very aware of the cafe's fire exits. "So... you believe in reincarnation?"

"Oh, absolutely," Leo confirmed, then paused, scrutinizing her. "You remind me of a rather stubborn turnip I once bred in the gardens of Emperor Diocletian. Good root structure. Bad social skills."

Chloe managed a weak smile. "Right. Well, this has been... an experience."

Leo beamed, utterly oblivious. "Only the beginning! I have so many stories. Did I ever tell you about the time I taught a parrot to quote Nietzsche in ancient Sumerian?"

Chloe already had her Uber ride confirmed. She just needed to figure out how to escape without offending a potential reincarnated vegetable.