I took my crush on a date. All was great—until she got a call.
She went pale and said, “Sorry! I’ll be right back.”
30 minutes passed. She never returned.
The waitress rudely said, “Sir, you need to leave. Now.”
I thought I was ghosted, but then I heard sirens.
Turns out she was being arrested… right outside the restaurant.
Let me back up.
Her name was Maren. I met her at a photography exhibit in the city. She had this quiet intensity—always scanning things with her eyes, like she was collecting stories just by looking. We talked for twenty minutes about one photo of a broken-down laundromat, and by the end of the night, I worked up the nerve to ask her out.
We picked a little Thai place tucked between a dry cleaner and a tattoo shop. Quirky, casual—perfect for a first date.Read More Below
