My name isn't Sam.

I met Sam a while ago. We emailed and chatted for several weeks and decided to finally meet for dinner and a movie. I chose a restaurant near my home. I've been going there for years, know the owner personally, and figured she'd let me duck out the back door if things got to scary. I figured we would discuss the movie over dinner.

Armed with my description of Sam, I sat in the car in the parking lot, despite the fact that I had caught the flu from the children at school. But not having a phone number to reach Sam at, and not wanting to stand anyone up, I went anyway. I was looking for a guy with dark hair and a beard. Only one gentlemen met that criteria, so I introduced myself. We were seated and he tells me, "My name isn't Sam."

I blinked in bewilderment, his email and chat id's had him as Sam. "What is your name?"

"My name is Hajit."

My mind started racing, and I decided maybe he'd run into a lot of prejudice due to his being from the middle east. Maybe he'd gotten lots of hate mail and felt the need to adopt an internet pseudonym.

"Ok." Things kind of went down hill from there. How else can they go when you discover you're not on a date with the person you intended.

Forging ahead, I focused on the menu and chose my favorite dish General Tsao's chicken and iced tea. Hajit ordered some bland lo mein dish and hot tea. As we sat there, nibbling on crispy noodles, he started telling me all about his ex-wife and how she took his daughter from him and now he's looking for a wife who will enable him and his lawyer to strip custody from his ex.

Not having any children or an ex of my own, there wasn't much I could add to the conversation. But I decided it was time to let him know of my illness. "I know we planned on dinner and a movie, but I'm sick and think it best if we just do dinner this time."

"There is nothing wrong with you." Mind you the guy had known me all of 15 minutes.

"Yes, there is. I'm sick. My throat hurts. I've been running fever. I would have cancelled with you but I didn't have your number."

As dinner was placed in front of us, he announced, "I will buy you medicine."

"No. I can buy my own medicine." I started eating my chicken.

"Why are you eating that?" he said, pointing at my spicy chicken. "You should eat what I am eating."

"But I don't like that." I pointed at his dish.

Ever the witty conversationalist, Hajit countered with, "Why are you drinking iced tea. If you are sick, you should drink hot tea, like me."

Starting to get annoyed, I answer, "The cold tea feels good on my sore throat."

This clever banter went on throughout dinner, and after he finally paid the bill, I got up and started walking to my car.

"Come get in my car. I will get you medicine."

Is this guy out of his fucking mind? He's obviously a control freak from hell with some barbaric idea of my role as a woman, there is absolutely no way I would get in his vehicle and relinquish my independence. This is the kind of guy who takes his American wife overseas to meet the family and she's never seen again. Hell fucking no!

"I told you I can buy my own medicine."

"Let's get it," he said, pointing to the Randall's next door.

I agreed because I needed more time to figure out my escape. I didn't want this crazed lunatic following me home.

After purchasing my thera-flu, which Hajit had never heard of, he wanted us to go to the movies.

"I told you I don't feel like it."

"But you have medicine."

"But I don't know if it's gonna work or if I'll feel like staying out."

"It will work," he stated authoritatively.

Knowing I need to stay in a crowd with this one, I told him we could go to Starbuck's and I'd take my medicine, and if I felt better in 30 minutes, we'd be just across the street from the theater.

Sensing victory, Hajit didn't even put up too much of a fight when I refused to ride with him and insisted on taking my own car because I didn't want to leave it unsupervised in the parking lot at the restaurant.

We got to starbucks and, in keeping with doing what felt good for my sore throat, I ordered an iced mocha. Hajit cringed when I ordered. He, of course, ordered some piping hot something or other that he drank black.

He got us a table outside in the brisk October wind. (The weather in Houston often drops into the low 40's at night). Armed with my leather jacket, my iced mocha, and my thera-flu, I sat at the cafe table, trying to make polite conversation as the wind whipped around us. When I complained of being cold, Hajit suggested a walk.

"I don't know. I still don't feel good. The medicine's not working. I think it's time for me to go."

"But what about the movie?" My God how dense can one man be? Like I'm gonna agree to be in a darkened room with this person???

"I told you, I'd see the movie if I felt better. But I don't."

"You need to walk." For a man who'd met me just 2 hours ago, Hajit was sure the expert on what I needed.

"Ok, one walk. And then I'm going home."

"Then you will see the movie."

We started off in the direction of the theater, because Hajit was bound and determined to see something. I was keeping an eye on my vehicle, wondering if I could break free and get inside it before he caught me, when I heard a sickening crunching sound.

I looked down, and my date had stepped on the skull of a bird and crushed it. Granted, the bird was probably already dead, but somehow that's even worse, because he stepped on a carcass.

I was stunned. Noone I know has ever accidentally stepped on a dead animal and crushed its skull. In fact, people tend to instinctively step over or around dead animals. That's why I know he did it on purpose.

"I have to go NOW!" I told him and started walking to the car. Hajit followed, with crushed feathers and brain matter sticking to the bottom of his shoe.

As I unlocked the door, he asked me, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"I plan on being sick tomorrow," I answered and slammed the door. I had the engine started and had pulled out of the driveway before Hajit could even make it to his car.