I was in my early twenties and had never been on a date before. My coworkers were always lamenting my apparent lack of experience and one decided that she knew the perfect guy for me. Long story short I ended up meeting this guy and, weirdly, my coworker, for coffee. For easier reading, let’s call the guy Eric and the coworker Jade. Eric was about my height but looked oddly like my middle brother (lanky and all knees and elbows). Coworker claimed he lived on a farm despite the fact he was white as toilet paper.
So, anyways, Jade monopolized the conversation and poor Eric was too shy to say much at all. Eventually, she left and finally, Eric began to talk, albeit shyly. He explained that Jade had told him so much about me and he loved animals too. I was a little disturbed that Jade had been so…free with information but kind of expected it. I was excited to meet someone who liked animals and told him my dream job would be working with animals. He told me he had worked at a pet store that sold Caimans (also known as small, man-eating crocodiles). I was skeptical but listened to his awkward-paused stories about this pet store.
After that, I mentioned I had animals: two cats and a rabbit.
“Oh, I would kill that rabbit.”
“I hate rabbits.”
“Okay… but, you know, mine is pretty cuddly and cute.”
“I’d step on it so hard I’d splatter its brains everywhere. So you’d better keep me from that rabbit, because I’ll kill it. I’ll shoot it and throw its body to my dogs.”
I left pretty quickly after that and ignored all subsequent attempts at contact.