I met a cute friendly contractor/construction worker in a cafe, and even though I'm getting a master's degree, I thought it could work. Maybe he was a "diamond in the rough". After we exchanged smiles, he came up to me. We chatted and exchanged phone numbers. He had a foreign accent, and I loved dating European guys in the past. I live in a big city, and he commuted every day from a nearby town. When we met for our date three nights later, I assumed it was for a drink as we had discussed of earlier. I was a little dismayed to see that he was still in his dirty work clothes. He wanted to go home first to take a shower and change clothes. I don't have a lot of experience dating total strangers from the Internet or from meeting in random places, but yeah, I'd heard of warnings never to get into a guy's car or go to his house on the first date. So, I was reluctant but didn't want to make waves. I had a good feeling about him, and I really assumed that once he showered, we'd come back out to the city for that drink. I said, "Okay, if you drive me back tonight". He didn't say, "Yes, of course." He didn't really say anything. So, that should have been my first warning. He then suggested we pick up some take out food to eat at his house. I could see where this was heading, and it seemed like a pretty unconventional date. But I thought, well, that's not so bad. It could be all right. So, we got some salad, fruit, and soup, and pretty soon we were at his place. He was showering as I prepared dinner. It was at that moment that I realized that something was wrong with this picture. I was cooking and washing dishes at the guy's house on a first date. "It is like you are my wife!" he exclaimed happily when he came out of the shower in his bathrobe, not his clothes. Then he sat down to watch TV. The next hour and a half was spent fending off his advances and trying to explain to him that I'd prefer to get to know him a little better for a few weeks before getting physical. He got a little angry at one point, and I knew I could be in a dangerous situation. I feared that if I demanded to be driven home he'd refuse and kick me out, or we'd argue and he'd hurt me. Or if I insisted I'd sleep on the couch, he'd rape me in the middle of the night or steal my wallet. No, I didn't really have anyone I could call to get me at 10:30 at night, and there was no public transportation from there. So, eventually I decided that agreeing to have sex with him and sleep in his bed would be the safest bet, hoping that once he had his rocks off he'd be calmer and less likely to rape. Luckily, he was attractive enough, so I wasn't repulsed. In fact, the sex could have been pretty good had I wanted it and not felt pushed and coerced into it. The next morning, the moment the alarm rang I jumped out of bed so he wouldn't start again. He drove us back to the city and asked me if I was happy. Yeah, I'm so happy. He was actually all romantic and hoping that this was a start of a relationship. I still couldn't say what I thought of all that as I was in his car. This was three nights ago, and he's called twice since then. Hopefully he will stop calling. I'm just glad he doesn't know where I live.
— Georgia, 32