She tried to patent our ravioli

I'm a guy who burns toast, so a first date at a cooking class seemed both romantic and medically sensible. My date arrived with a briefcase. Inside were blank nondisclosure agreements. She asked the instructor to sign one before revealing her ravioli filling: cheese. Three cheeses, technically, which she said made it "proprietary." The instructor explained that everyone was using the same ingredients. My date folded one corner of her pasta differently and announced that she'd invented the "flavor envelope." Things escalated when another couple made square ravioli. She leaned over and said, "Interesting. Where did you get that shape?" I tried to redirect her toward dinner. She asked me to photograph each piece beside a handwritten copyright symbol. Then she told the instructor she expected royalties if the class used cheese again. When we finally ate, she asked whether I wanted to be her boyfriend or her business partner. I said I wasn't qualified for either, but I could be a witness.