She tried to copyright our conversation

I thought coffee was a safe first date. Sit down, talk, maybe become somebody's boyfriend. I had not budgeted for intellectual property law. She slid a laminated sheet across the table. It listed phrases she'd invented, including “big Tuesday energy” and, somehow, “anyway.” I laughed. She made a tally mark. “That's commercial use,” she said. “You're enjoying my brand.” I asked if she was kidding. She said humor was a separate license. When the barista called my drink, she whispered, “Don't respond with 'that's me.' I'm developing that.” Then she requested a voice memo confirming that any funny observations I made during the date belonged to her. I said I wasn't signing away my personality over a muffin. She wrote that down. “That's actually very good.” I paid for my coffee and left. Outside, she texted that she'd waive the consultation fee if I gave her a testimonial. I replied with a thumbs-up. She sent back: “We offer that gesture exclusively in the premium tier.”