Whoa! Slow down, I thought to myself. In the dark, smoky bar, especially after 12 brews were put down, she didn't look half bad. After chatting her up for a while and surmising that she was not a complete psycho, I decided to play along. We went back to her place, but I told here there would be no handcuffs, but frisking was okay. But, as I got that thought together and verbalized, Maria "pulled her gun" on me and advised me to "assume the position."
Fortunately for me her apartment is only on the third floor, so there was no hesitation on my part to jump from the window and beat feet on back to Virginia where we don't have those kinds, although some would question the aesthetic qualities of the Hogettes.
That is horrible! Did you get to swing a punch at "him/her"?