Story Submitted by Taylor:
Peter wrote to me online and I checked out his profile. In it, he mentioned having a wild past and moving around a bit, but that in recent years he had settled down and started a small contracting business.
He was very gentlemanly and thoughtful in his messages, so we talked for a little while before meeting up. One question he asked, that makes sense in retrospect, was, "Are you related to anyone in law enforcement? I have a question."
I wasn't, and so he left it at that. It wasn't until the date that I found out the real reason why he had asked.
Dinner itself went well, although Peter seemed a bit high-strung and incapable of relaxing. I figured that it was first-date jitters and did my best to make him feel comfortable around me. Otherwise, he was as nice as nice could be, and I found myself rather attracted to him.
After dinner, we went for a walk and he took my hand. It was a sweet gesture, and we walked a little ways into a small park and sat on a bench. I sidled up close to him. I wanted him to kiss me.
"It seems as though I can trust you," he said.
"Of course you can."
"You don't seem like a cop."
I stopped with the snuggling. What did he mean by that?
He said, "My real name isn't Peter. I escaped from juvie hall about ten years ago. It was a minimum-security thing, but yeah. There's probably a warrant out for me somewhere."
I broke away from him, not to take off, but to look at him better. He jumped right down my throat. "What's wrong? I'm not going to hurt you. You a cop?"
"No!" I said, "It wasn't a prison, though. It was juvenile hall. Would they still be looking for you?"
He said, "Juvie isn't the punishment. Juvie is where they keep you before the punishment. So I took off before my court date."
"Punished for what?"
"You a cop?"
"No," I said, but I silently wished that one would appear, as Peter's paranoia was making me nervous.
"I cut a guy, trying to take his car. He's fine, but I'm still being punished for it. You swear you're not a cop? This is entrapment if you are."
I looked around, making sure that there were other people a shout's distance away, which there were. Peter said, "Who are you looking at? You are a cop," and stood up.
"I'm not a cop. I just want to understand what you're saying."
He glanced around, himself. He then said, "All right," and bent down as if to sit beside me again, then took off faster than a senior on the last day of high school, with rocket boots on.
His profile was deleted on the dating site shortly thereafter.
This was several years ago, but Peter, if you're out there and reading this, I swear I wasn't a cop. I hope you find someone to trust, and that you take responsibility for your actions. Most of all, I hope that you're okay.
2/18/2011
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I imagine the stress and paranoia have killed him by now.
ReplyDeleteHE didn't cut that guy! It was the one-armed man!
ReplyDeletedagnamit. Just when I was saying that women don't like bad boys anymore...look at you still worried what he thinks of you...
ReplyDelete