So, there I was, all dressed up and ready for my date. You know the vibe - casual drinks, light conversation, followed by dinner… what could go wrong?

I arrive at the bar five minutes early, and my date is already there. And by "already there," I mean he’s already skull-crushed his first drink and clutching a second one like it’s the last drink he’ll ever have.

I order my drink and engage in some polite small talk. He reaches out and massages my leather jacket between his fingers (yes, like George Costanza), and remarks that my jacket is “very fancy”. By comparison, he is wearing a jacket made of a plastic pleather combo that looked like he would go up in flames if we sat too close to the open fire.

Meanwhile, the bartender is looking at both of us, waiting for payment. My date just stares at me. So, I reach into my bag and after a few awkward silent seconds he let’s out this exaggerated sigh and begrudgingly mutters, “Urgh, I’ll get it”.

But not only does he get it, he also orders another two drinks for himself, like he’s a teenager who just got his first fake ID.

We shuffle into the beer garden, and before long, the topic of relationships comes up, and it is... something. He casually mentions that his last relationship ended because - brace yourself - his girlfriend threw his laptop out of the window. I’m sorry, what? One wonders what she might have found on the laptop to spark that kind of rage… but I digress.

Then, he follows up with a gem… this fine gentleman went straight from her window to her sister’s house and, wait for it... slept with her sister. Yes.

By now, he’s in full "let's get wasted" mode with absolutely zero interest in dinner. I, on the other hand, have gone into full-on “survival mode” and my mind is laser-focused on one thing: the Hungry Jacks drive-thru.

Then, just when I thought it couldn’t get weirder, he hits me with the ultimate curveball. He leans in and asks, in all seriousness, “Are you a spiritual person?”

I, being a believer in the spirit world and higher forces, say, “Yes, I am.”

And then, as if he were about to tell me the secret to immortality, he asks, “Have you ever considered satanism before?”… I don’t even blink.

He starts enthusiastically rattling off satanic commandments. Two of them really caught my attention: “If a guest in your lair annoys you, treat him cruelly and without mercy” and “If someone bothers you, ask him to stop. If he does not stop, destroy him.”

Now, I’m not saying I didn’t appreciate his passion for something, but I wasn’t exactly ready to sign up for the cult membership card.

Needless to say, as soon as I could, I got the hell out of there (yes, bad pun), Olympic power-walked to my car, and locked the doors.

As I drove away, I felt gratitude, gratitude that I escaped with my life, and that this was one story that I couldn’t wait to tell the girls.

When life gives you bad dates, you get yourself a burger and move on.