Bad dates are good material.

I’d been talking to a man online for a couple months and agreed to have dinner with him. Turns out, instead of being in his early 30s as he’d claimed, he was clearly closer to 50. We had strained conversation over dinner, mainly talking about how he didn’t want to live with his mother anymore. As we walked out, he told me he wanted to show me his new wheels: a shiny, black conversion van, aka a kidnapper-mobile. He then asked if I wanted to go for a ride and opened the side door. Inside was a sex swing and handcuffs attached to the ceiling! I ran back inside the restaurant and had a waiter walk me to my car.