The party, it turned out, was across the river in the far away town of Milton.
And his costume, was mistakenly left at his place, so we ventured off to get it.
Halfway into the projects I realized: I'd left my cell phone in my car.
No biggie, I was just with a man I'd known for a total of 10 hours that spanned 2 weeks.
He went searching for his costume, and what he emerged with, wasn't just the dollar store vest and eye-patch he'd told me about... but also a box of fake mustaches.
"What are all those mustaches for?" I asked.
"Disguises?? What would you need a disguise for?"
Enter creepy response:
"I make movies."
I'd be lying if I didn't admit that for a split second...
I pictured myself tied up in a basement, with "Mr. Burt Reynold's mustache" making some perverse version of 'Saw IIX," casting me as the lead.
I excused myself to the bathroom... in hopes of coming to my senses and again realizing that I was only with this guy, because he DIDN'T seem creepy at all.
And just as I'd calmed myself down a wee bit, I gasped in horror.
There, on the window sill... was a knife.
Soaked in blood.
I wanted to RUN out of there, deep into the city of Poughkeepsie, screaming for help and in search of my cell phone.
But just before I bolted, I came to my senses:
That bloody knife, was made of paper.
Perhaps it was some sort of "prop" for his movie. Either way, I had to ask.
"So what's the deal with the paper knife on your window sill?"
"Oh, oh... that's just a bookmark."
Oh, okay, good enough. Just a bookmark. At least he reads!!!
----------------------------------------We'll leave out the part where the date ended with me sleeping in an attic, on an air mattress (fully clothed) with Mr. Movie-Maker.
And as always we'll leave out the part where I continued to date him.
Fill in the blank:
My date started off wrong when __________________________.