Random Questions To Ask People Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Lay it on me.” “Lay what on you?” I asked, as he washed the broccolini in the sink. “Your first question.” “Oh, right,” I said, smiling coquettishly, as I thought of what to ask. “What’s your favorite color?” “Really?” Cal groaned, clearly dissatisfied. “Come on, I want a real question.” “We have to start with the basics,” I argued playfully. “If someone asks me what your favorite color is, I’m going to look like a complete buffoon if I don’t get it right.”

Volume returning to normal, he asked, “How are you? Are you okay?” My brow furrowed, my eyes narrowing as I tried to work out what the hell was happening right now. “I’m fine, thanks. Why? Shouldn’t I be?” “Isn’t it a customary when calling someone to ask how they are?” Aaaand the dick was back. But not for long, it seemed. “I’m sorry, Marissa. Forgive me, it’s been a long day.” Yeah, he was telling me. “That’s okay. How are you?”

she says defensively but in a calm way. "Then you can ask her questions like, what her favorite food is. What's her hobby. What type of music she listens to... Those types of questions," says the old man. "That's how you'll get to know her." I feel like showering him with kisses right now. "You are making her uncomfortable," he adds in my defense. The beautiful, old lady rolls her eyes. "I didn't call her for dinner to know if she loves Kanye or Taylor Swift. That's none of my business... I want to know more about her and who she is and if she is the perfect fit for my son."

I sighed. The line cracked, like he was moving around. "What do people do on their day off?" He asked, once the line cleared. "I tried asking the internet, but nothing it listed sounded like anything a normal person would be interested in." I hummed. "Well, normal people sleep in until like ten in the morning." "Yes, g****e had mentioned that, but like I said, that doesn't sound like anything a normal person would be interested in." "I guess I'm not normal then."

The brown tiles have a wooden effect, and then I start feeling sorry for the poor person whose job it is to keep all this clean. “What’s your skincare routine?” “Do you think you’re going to change him?” “Where do you come from?” “Is the girl your kid?” “What’s wrong with her?” People start invading our space, and some even follow us, openly taking photos and asking questions that I don’t even know the answers to. But should. “Is he big?” “Does he prefer showers or baths?” “What’s his favorite color?” “What size socks does he wear?” “Is he really allergic to latex?”

If I decided to ask those questions. Probably not.

I'm waiting for the interview to start. "Okay. First, since you didn't give me your resume, I'm going to ask you some questions about your personal life. Is that okay?" he asks for my permission. I nod my head. "Yes, it's okay." "Good. What is your full name, your age, your birthdate, your zodiac sign, your hobbies, your favorite music, are you still single, and if so, how many exes do you have? What are your favorite foods and drinks? What is your goal in life? What do you hate in a person? What are your desires, and what are your past related jobs?" he asks, and I'm awed, forming an 'o' shape with my mouth.

I paused. "You cannot ask any question linked to the previous one...each and every question should be unique...." I said. "Fine" he said. "No uncomfortable question...i will have the choice to abort the question..." I said. "No...its not fair...and there is no such things like uncomfortable between couples..." He said. "But.." i started. "No if and buts...i will not ask you any uncomfortable question...okay?" He said. "Okay. My first question is your happiest moment?" i said.

Anyone asking too many questions. Including me.

It was a bewildering, overwhelming and non-stop stream of questions demanding that she answer: Coffee or tea? Coffee with milk and sugar? What do you want to eat on your break? Which shampoo? Which hand cream? What bank do you want to open an account in? Do you want to go to the movies? What do you want to see? What are you doing on your day off? Do you want company? And on and on and fucking on.