You see a young woman alone in a bar… Spoilers

… You end up in a conversation somehow (lucky you!), and discover you both like movies. You, a man at least ten years her senior who is for some reason interested in this university student, how do you catch her interest? Did you say you would recommend the movie Perfume : The Story of a Murderer? No? Well good job, you’re not deranged! What a pity that some people don’t have the same basic common sense as you. Or to put it another way : strap in, because this is the story of how I met the most terrifying guy ever.

Make fun of me all you want, but when I started university, I’d never had alcohol before. I grew up in the US, so it was technically illegal, plus all the cool kids at school thought I would snitch on them. They weren’t wrong. As a result, it wasn’t until I moved to Canada for university that I was both willing and invited to drink - and even then I wasn’t all that excited about it.

At least not until I found a nearby bar that held weekly language exchange events.

I’ve always been a language nerd, so I immediately knew I had to go. The only issue was that I was too cowardly (or wise?) to go alone. I did eventually find a few friends to go with me, though, at which point buying a pitcher of sangria and awkwardly hoping someone would strike up a conversation with me became just another part of my weekly schedule.

It was fun enough, with one caveat : the creepy guys looking for “fresh meat”.

Now I’ll admit, I didn’t mind it at first. I was young and desperate to feel like an adult, so I played along, smiling and chatting with just about anyone who would approach me. I should have realised the flaw in my strategy when I was forcibly pulled into dancing with a 50-year-old I could barely communicate with, but no. I only learned my lesson after I met the film buff.

Visually, he looked no different to any of the other inappropriately old men I’d met there. He was even on the young side, probably only in his early thirties. He struck up a conversation and I did my best to keep it going. At one point or another I mentioned liking movies and his eyes lit up. He loved films, apparently, and he wanted to know my favourites. His enthusiasm was more than enough to warn me that I was unfortunately not on his level of cinephilia. I mumbled out a few names and shyly said that he probably knew much more than me.

Actually, maybe he could recommend some films? 🥺

It was a shallow trick, but that was all it took. My part of the conversation was over - all I had to do was quietly jot down the names of his favourite films and make vaguely interested noises. He had a long list though, so I eventually had to make my excuses. He offered to walk me home, but I turned him down. I wasn’t that interested in him, after all. I gave him my number to be polite and then stumbled home and passed out.

It wasn’t until a few days later, that I remembered to look at the list and found one name that caught my eye - Perfume : The Story of a Murderer.

If you haven’t seen the film, here’s the summary : a man goes around murdering women in order to preserve their “scents”. That’s it. That’s the movie. Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not a bad film, but I was horrified. Even if it were the most life-changing movie ever, who in their right mind would recommend that to a strange woman in a bar? Even if it were meant as a joke, where am I supposed to laugh?

By that point, I had messages from way too many strangers I only half-remembered to count. There was no way to figure out which was the movie buff - I had to block the lot of them. I stopped going to the bar as well, worried that I wouldn’t recognise him and he would approach me, or maybe even follow me home and murder me - he had, after all, offered to walk me home that night. There had always been creeps looking for “fresh meat” there, but this was a bit more of a literal take on that threat.

The only time I ever went back, months later, I was so terrified that I almost had a panic attack and left after five minutes. If I have to find a positive spin on the experience, I guess it would have to be that I empathise a lot more with prey animals now.

Red flag films aren’t always films that attract incels and misogynists. Sometimes, they’re perfectly average movies that would only be recommended by people so socially inept as to effectively be deranged sociopaths. At least, that’s my takeaway from Perfume : The Story of a Murderer. So yeah, long story short, don’t tell strange women in bars how much you love to watch serial killers murder them onscreen. Or maybe do - it’s better that we know who you are before it’s too late.