Didn't I See You on Animal Planet?

Submitted by Denise:

I met Joe at a mutual friend's birthday party.  He had a great sense of humor, even though he relentlessly poked fun at what I do (I work at a company's investor relations unit).

When he picked me up for our first date, he opened his car door for me, insisted that he also open it when we made it to the restaurant (our "first stop of the night," as he put it), and opened the restaurant door for me.

When we sat down, he took my coat and helped me push my chair in when I sat down.  Very gentlemanly, but certainly not expected.  I had every intention of offering to pay for my share of dinner, and I told him so.

He said, "No way, José.  Not on my date.  The only thing you have to do is to be a woman."

I had that down pat.  It was a strange thing to say, though, and a little warning bell, the first of many that evening, went off.

When the waiter came to take our orders, Joe ordered for me, without having asked what I wanted.  I'm a vegetarian, and he ordered me something with chicken.  I cut in that I would have actually rather had the vegetarian wrap.

The waiter left and Joe asked, "Since when is chicken not vegetarian?"

I told him, "Since it came from an animal.  That makes it meat."

He blinked, as if I had taught him something new.  "Chicken?" he asked.

I nodded.  "It's an animal."

He stared at me for almost a full minute.  I couldn't tell if he was working something out or if he was fuming mad.  Either way, it was the most uncomfortable minute of my life.

I attempted conversation and asked him about himself.  He was all too eager to discuss that topic.

After dinner, we climbed into his car and he asked if I wanted to take a walk by a nearby river.  I'd typically be up for it, but it was chilly out, so I suggested that we hit up a coffee place for dessert.

"Dessert?" he said.

"Why not?" I asked.

"Dessert?" he repeated.

"Yes.  Or tea.  Or a snack."

"Dessert?  Dessert?" he repeated a few times more.  For the second time that night, but not the last, I felt as if things weren't going too well.

I asked, "Does that sound good?"

Instead of driving us to a coffee place, he drove me back to my neighborhood and parked a few blocks away from my house.

He turned to me.  "Do you know how to pleasure a man?"

I smirked and leaned in, closer to him.  That, of course, was a distraction.  My hand reached back and unlocked the car door.  In a flash, I was out of the car, hurrying down the street, towards my house.

But I wasn't alone.

"Hey," he said, and chased me down the block, on foot.

I sped up.  He did, too.  I could hear his feet pounding the pavement, and could hear his breathing, closer and closer.

I scrambled for my keys, found the right one, ran around to the back of my house, let myself in, slammed the door closed, and locked it.

He made it to the door right afterward and knocked as if it was a friendly visit.  I heard him say, "Hey, you forgot something.  Me!"

I didn't reply, but I did call the police.  He was gone by the time they showed up, and I never saw or heard from him again.  It was a couple of years ago, but I still look over my shoulder every now and then.