Last week I started chatting with a perfectly normal seeming man, let's call him Bob...who works as a contractor in some outlandish specialized field catering to the wealthy in our region. Bob, it turns out, was also in band as a teenager and we both lamented on having gone through more than our share of reeds playing alto saxophone and the costs to our respective mothers of said reeds. We had some fun back and forth, agreed we each found the other appealing and that conversation seemed to be going well.
Then he started talking about how much he loves heavy metal and how it's his outlet - and gee isn't it handy that he lives in an apartment in an industrial neighborhood with no neighbors so he can play as loud as he wants without bothering anyone? He also told me that an ex-girlfriend had broken up with him over the music...always interesting. When I asked how that came to be, he explained that she was weak minded. Ah...good to know. Still, you never know why a relationship fails or prospers, so I opted reserve judgement. I mean, after all, musical taste isn't a dealbreaker for me - unless they can't stand country...then we're done. ;)
So, we continued talking, and he invited me to come over for "grilled cheese and a movie", since he was planning a quiet night in. I must say, I was actually considering it...for the first time in a while I was talking to a guy who wasn't asking sexually loaded questions or throwing out ultimatums about what sort of woman he needs in his life, or bragging about his vehicle/genitalia/vacations/salary/etc. Pretty heady stuff *rolls eyes*. As we talked I told him it would take me some time to get out to his area, since he was over 2 bridges, and suggested we meet at a pub halfway instead - largely because I had made a vow after the last 3 not to go out of my way to meet a first date - only to be rebuffed. He told me that he didn't have any disposable income at the moment, or he would of course want to go out. That was red flag number one...no disposable income whatsoever? Not even enough for coffee or a beer? I've been strapped in the past, but I've always found a little bit of wiggle room.
I decided to offer an alternative to keep things closer to home - literally - and said he could come to my place then if he liked, since he wasn't working that afternoon, and it would be easier. "I don't drive" he says. I responded with "Aah, I see", as an adult human male outside my neighborhood/on the other side of the river who doesn't drive is in fact a deal breaker for me. In response he said "I mean I do drive, I just don't have a company truck today".Me: "So you just don't have your own vehicle then?"
Bob: "Yeah, it's a long story haha"
Me: "I have time..."
Bob: "Later" - Red flag number two.
My curiosity was definitely piqued at this point, and I was starting to wonder just what his agenda was. I agreed to meet him, simply to get his address and see where this mysterious "industrial neighborhood" at the foot of the Alex Fraser bridge was. I told him that I was taking a risk in meeting a strange fellow at his place, and he responded (a little too quickly) that he was taking a chance having a "potentially crazy stalker chick" to his place, but that he was "willing to take the risk". A little too slick on the response there buddy boy. - Red flag three.
He sent me his address, which I promptly entered into Google maps...which was (drumroll please!) a warehouse. Not an apartment building in a warehouse district - a full-on warehouse. He also gave me his cell number, and told me to text when I arrived...
Bob: "Text me when you arrive and I'll show you where to park. It'll be unit #10" (Bob's unit in the warehouse is #4 btw)
Me: "I Google mapped it for directions...it's a warehouse...like, an actual warehouse, not an apartment?!"
Bob: "Yeah, I know, weird right?"
Me: "Yeah, really adds to the randomness thing..."
Bob: "Ahah"
RED ALERT. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. MAN THE ESCAPE PODS.
I sat back and thought about it for a few minutes...the only conclusion I could come to was that he was going to have me park a ways away from the unit he was living in, and that "bad things" would happen to me, and my car would likely disappear and no one would ever know what happened to me.
SO, given that he didn't know my last name, email, cell number, address, where I worked or anything else...I unmatched him on Tinder and tore up the piece of paper with his number and address on them. Thankfully on Tinder, once you unmatch someone, your messages disappear and the connection is gone too. They can never message you again unless you re-match.
So there you have it folks...don't go to industrial areas at night, because you'll likely disappear.
Maybe I've been watching too many BBC crime dramas on Netflix...but I figure I made a good decision - don't you??
