Story Sent in by Ruth:
Karl and I met online. We both had an interest in old Chevrolets, and spoke for a couple of weeks before he asked me out. He seemed nice, likable, and trustworthy, so when he offered to pick me up at my house, I accepted. In retrospect, this was stupid of me.
The night of the date, he pulled up in a monster SUV with loud rock music blasting out of its open windows. I reached for the car door and he jerked it forward. "Sorry," he said, and I reached for the door again. It went forward once more. That time, he didn't say sorry, but cracked a smile. I reached for the door a third time, and then the car reversed, almost crushing my foot.
I jumped back and he laughed. I asked, "Do you want me to come with you or not? Cut the shit."
His smile melted into an angry grimace, and he floored it away from me, down the street. I stood there, flabbergasted. After a few moments, I gathered my wits and turned back to my house, entered it, and locked the door.
He must have driven around the block, because just a minute later, he pulled up outside and honked his horn repeatedly. He texted me, "Come on, let's go," but I wasn't going anywhere with him. I turned off all the lights in the house and watched him from a window as he honked and honked.
He waited in his vehicle for about 15 minutes when he jumped out, stormed up to my door, and pounded on it. He said, "I was planning on having a nice date with a mature woman. At this point, you're coming with me whether you want to or not."
He kept up the banging and I called the police. They showed up very fast, as if they were just two blocks away. They pulled up in back of his SUV and put their lights on. I couldn't see Karl's face too well from where I watched, but I would have liked to.
Karl remained by my door as an officer approached him. He said, "Hi officer. I'm locked out of my house. Can you help me get in?"
The cop said, "Sir, you need to leave."
Karl began to say something else, but the cop cut in, "Right now, sir. Right now. Leave the premises."
"You piece of shit!" Karl yelled at the house, and the cop advanced on him. There was a scuffle, and it ended with Karl being stuffed in the back of the police cruiser in handcuffs. It drove away.
Two questions appeared in my mind after watching such a scene: the first, rather dumb, was, "What's going to happen with Karl's SUV? I don't want him to come back for it." The second one was, "Is he going to try to come back once he's released?"
My questions were answered when another police cruiser pulled up, behind Karl's SUV, and a cop stepped out of it and up to my door.
Long story short, I didn't have to worry about Karl's vehicle, and he never bothered me again. After that, I learned never to ask a guy to pick me up at my house on a first, or even second date.
Story Sent in by Ruth: