Sex with Satan?

I was walking down 8th Avenue last night and thought of this experience I had when I was much younger. I was traumatized for... well... as long as a 24 year old can be traumatized. So I'll tell you. I was in a dive, local bar in NYC called The Candle . I met this guy, not particularly my type. But he was a smooth talker. He was approximately 5'10", muscular but in a very, very thin way. Creepy almost. We chat on and on and in my head I'm thinking "just go home, he's not your type." But he was one of those people who turn good looking once you get to know them. Long story short, we end up going to his place. So I walk into this apartment which had the longest entrance hallway that went on forever until it opened up into a living room. There was no furniture except for a huge wooden piece of furniture that resembled a bureau/altar. I thought "This makes me uncomfortable." So the guy offers me a drink, I decline - as does he. Now during all of this, creepy guy is perfectly, suspiciously and overly charming. I didn't trust him. But stupid, stupid Ryan. Anyway, clothes began to come off, no sex yet. I'm thinking "altar/no furniture, weird candles, and way too charming - is this guy some sort of devil? Oh Ryan Charisma, you're insane he's not the devil. You've obviously been watching too many horror movies" So now I'm all in my head and not into what's going on, we're down to our underwear. Suddenly creepy guy gets up and heads toward the kitchen saying he wanted a drink and (of course) offered me one. I declined wrapped up in the thoughts of this guy being the devil. He comes back into the room and looks at me. He says "why are you looking at me like that?" "Like what?" I said. "Like I'm Satan" he said. Uh oh. Not a good thing to hear. Somehow, I was dressing and running, running for my life, running down the endless hallway to the LOCKED door. I clumsily fiddled with the locks thinking to myself how horrible that I'm like the girls in the horror movies. At least I wasn't screaming, I was scared. I got out and ran home to Jason, my roommate at the time. He'll attest to all of you. I needed a pint of Ben & Jerry's Chunky Monkey to get through the night. It was that scary.