You’re sitting at a café when a stranger approaches you. This person asks what your name is, and, for some reason, you reply. The stranger nods, “I’ve been looking for you.” What happens next?
“You’re not gonna murder me are you? Because I’d really prefer not to be murdered”. The stranger doesn’t respond but instead pulls out the chair in front of him and joins me at the table.
With a laugh, he says, “No. I’m not going to murder you.”
“Are you sure? Because I was watching an episode of Criminal Minds and this attractive guys comes up to Garcia in the exact same fashion as you just did and he ends up trying to kill her by the end of the episode. I’m just saying.” I say, shrugging my shoulders. He smiles at me again and looks at the tiny menu in the middle of our table.
“Actually, he came up to her because he offered to help fix her computer and the only reason he tried to kill her was because he thought she was investigating him. Which she actually wasn’t.” He doesn’t take his eyes off the menu but I can see a smirk forming on his lips.
“I…alright. Whatever.” I stare at him as he stares at the menu. He doesn’t seem like a murderer. But then the guy on Criminal Minds didn’t look like one either. But then again, it was Criminal Minds so pretty much everyone is a murderer. “That didn’t mean he had to try and kill her.”
“True. But he was an actual bad guy. A bad guy who got a nice bullet to the head.” He looks up at me with a grimace. “Something I would like to avoid just like you would like to avoid being killed.”
“I feel like we all try to avoid being killed. I mean, no one wants….wait.” I say, screwing up my face at the ridiculousness of the conversation with a perfect, albeit attractive, stranger. “Why are we even talking about this?”
“You started it by asking me if I were a murderer. Which, for the record, I am not.” He says the last few words as he gets up from the table and walks over to the counter. He orders an iced beverage of some kind and grins at me as he waits for it to be prepared.
He walks back over to the table stirring his drink. Let the interrogation begin.
“So is that how you do it, then?” I ask when he sits back down.
“Do what?” He stirs his coffee and looks up at me, a question in his eyes.
“Pick up women? You get them to tell you their names and say, all suave like, that you’ve been looking for them and they suddenly go weak in the knees and you take them back to your place and then leave them in a dumpster somewhere?”
“Wow, I didn’t understand a word of that. But I’m sure there was something about murder in that little rant. What’s with the murder kick anyway?” He puts down his coffee with a laugh. He leans back in his chair and reaches for another stir stick on the small table behind him. “Whatever it is, I promise you that I am not, have never been, nor will I ever be a murderer. Besides, if I were I would have a much more elaborate plan than that.”
He must have seen the look on my face because he quickly says, “That was a joke. Sometimes people make jokes”. When I don’t respond he lets out a sigh.
“So what are you then, if you’re not a murderer?” I ask him, not really knowing what the answer will be.
“I’m just a guy looking for a girl.”
To be continued…