Well, there’s someone for everyone, as they say, so we had a look at the more unusual sites worldwide. SINCE December, 2013, kids everywhere have been singing Let It Go, from Disney’s Frozen.
There are adults, however who, despite having grown up, just can’t let Disney go, so much so that there’s a Disney dating site.
Or perhaps I was just testing my own limits, like when you're a kid and you stand in the dark in front of the bathroom mirror and shine a flashlight under your face to try and scare yourself: I'm dating an undertaker ... Then again, I might have just liked him for him, and this undertaker thing was just what he did for a living. What kind of a person has, as a goal in life, the desire to delay the decomposition of human bodies, dress them in formal wear and display them in anti-corrosive boxes? Reproduction of material from any Salon pages without written permission is strictly prohibited. Associated Press articles: Copyright © 2016 The Associated Press. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.
Did he attend a funeral as a child and say longingly to himself, "Someday ..." And, more important, why would I date this kind of person?
Maybe I felt that if he liked me enough, he could talk his buddy the Reaper out of taking me, pull some strings. Why not run a coffee bar, design fabrics, program computers or install alarm systems? "Maybe he thought he'd do just a line or two," the undertaker said. See, the thing is, dealing with the dead makes you appreciate being alive." Copyright © 2017 Salon Media Group, Inc. Patent and Trademark Office as a trademark of Salon Media Group Inc.He chuckled and took a deep drag from his cigarette. So it wasn't like I actively went out looking for an undertaker. One of them made me laugh and spit café mocha on my keyboard. I knew that he was an Italian who lived in the Bronx and this had made me worry about gray suits with white socks, chest hair and pinkie rings. "I won't meet you unless you tell me what you do," I joked. "I'm an undertaker." Well, at least he had a morbid sense of humor. He didn't taunt death by driving sports cars around sharp corners with his eyes closed.We met the way a lot of people in modern Manhattan meet: online. He was also mysterious because he wouldn't tell me what he did for a living. I suspected he was a coy UPS driver, fully aware that UPS drivers are the pin-ups of the gay community. Death wasn't a mysterious notion that he romanticized. "Here, I brought you a present." He pulled a plastic bag out from under his seat and dropped it on my lap. "I'm an Italian from da Bronx," he said in a Guido voice. I like that your people have such pride." He stopped at the light and shot me a dirty look and a Hmpf.