As I anxiously trudge into the elegant restaurant and take my seat at a reserved table for two, I see him for the first time. Assuming the young man who just walked in is my blind date, I allow myself to thoroughly examine his appearance, which just so happens to fit my taste.He appears to be well put together despite being rather unstylistic. Thin, rounded glasses lay atop the bridge of his nose, complementing his sharp jaw and facial structure. Additionally, I notice how his dark, straight hair pairs well with his honey colored eyes.

I awkwardly wave, motioning for him to approach me. “Are you David?” I inquire, praying that I haven’t accidentally initiated an unnecessarily embarrassing interaction. “Yes, then you must be Maria,” David replies before I nod back. Breathing a sigh of relief, I gather myself and adjust my posture in order to exude an air of friendliness.

Our conversation begins with common interests of which include reading and cooking. At first glance, it seems as though we’re quite compatible; however, he seems withdrawn despite my efforts to engage with him. Chattering about my education and occupation, I begin to notice David’s eyes drift away from me.

Somewhat spontaneously, his eyes bulge at a comment mentioning my brother. Curious and relatively delighted that Davis’s interest was piqued, I send him a questioning glance. Leaning in incredibly closer, he presses his elbows down on the table. To my upmost and utter surprise, he questions, “Do you know anyone who has committed incest?”

I raise my eyebrows at his sudden comment as I shake my head. David drones on about the taboo topic, an unease settling within me. Inching closer across the table, his shoe begins to stroke my shin. I begin to feel immensely uncomfortable, my initial hope for this man turned into skepticism and speculation.

In an attempt at driving the conversation in another direction, I say with every ounce of truth and feigning enthusiasm, “I’ve never met anyone like you before!” The corner of his lips twitches upward slightly as he responds, “You should be grateful for that.” Atleast he’s aware of his odd nature, I think to myself. Suppressing a shudder, I force myself to smile and nod along before excusing myself to the restroom. I fully regret ever sharing my personal information with this man, albeit unimportant background details.

Gripping my purse, I feel the cool air enveloping me as I slip out the door. Practically running towards my car, I drive as fast as I can without pushing the limit. Reflecting on the situation, I recall setting cash on my chair to pay for my meal, a common decency.

Hence, never again will I trust anyone with matters involving my dating life.