A Date at the Slaughterhouse

Submitted by Derrick:

Caroline, on her online profile, had posted some pictures of herself with stuffed animals.  Thinking this childlike but also charming, I e-mailed her, and we ultimately agreed to meet up.

We had arranged for a quick dinner and then maybe something else in town.  The day before, though, she called to ask if I could meet her at her house, and to bring a raincoat.

I asked her why, and she told me that it was a surprise.  As long as this surprise didn't involve an ambush and me dead, then I was sure that it would be enjoyable.

Raincoat in hand, I arrived at her house.  She opened her door wearing a dark blue apron with all manner of red stains on it.  Her hair was disheveled and she didn't at all look ready for a date, at least not the kind of dates I've been used to.

She led me downstairs, to her basement.  There were piles of vivisected stuffed animals and several skins hung from small, makeshift hooks.  Nearby, on a tray, there lay a pair of forceps and two very real-looking scalpels.

I looked at her apron, and she read my expression.  She said, "The blood on here, it's not from them.  It's from an actual butcher shop, though."

She pushed a stuffed elephant off of her operating table and motioned to it.  "Want to hop on?  We can do a pretend operation."

Having never had the opportunity to be operated upon in a filthy basement, I agreed, as long as I would be able to jump off whenever it became too creepy.

This visibly excited her, as evidenced by a little hop and a big smile.  She instructed me to lay out my raincoat on the table and lay on it, since the table was full of germs, as she put it.

I did this, and she pulled out some twine.  She tied one end of it around a metal knob off the corner of the table, and went to tie the other end around my right wrist.

I shook my head.  "No."

"It's to prevent you from thrashing.  You might hurt me."

I sat up and told her that I didn't really want to be on a table in her basement anymore.  Was she ready to head out?

She said that she would have to shower, change, primp, etc. and that it would take a while.  Apparently, she hadn't counted on actually leaving the house.

I told her that it was okay.  We could reschedule.  She really liked that idea, and she walked me out.

I never called her back.  I feel bad about it, but something about the whole thing was a turn-off.