He was an air force captain, and we met for drinks after exchanging 12 emails and a few phone calls over the course of two weeks.
He was cute enough, and certainly buff. His eyes were almost lavender and he smelled of bergmont.
He had a drink in front of him already, so I ordered my usual: scotch and soda.
The conversation was fine until I had had 3, maybe 4, sips of my drink.
"So," he asked, swirling his rum and coke. "What kind of birth control are you on?"
I nearly choked. "Excuse me?"
"Well, that's the point, right?"
As calmly as I could manage, I place my drink back on the cardboard coaster, folded my napkin, put it on the table, placed a $5 bill next to it, and stood up.
"A gentleman never assumes," I said before turning around and walking out the door.