Tonight I went on my first blind date. Now I'm leaning against a police cruiser, watching the blue lights flash on my date's face. He's in handcuffs, and not in a fun way.

So how did I get here? Let's review the facts.

A few hours ago, I thought what an excellent first date. Sitting in a cozy, Italian restaurant, I listened to the canned music playing overhead and surveyed Colton from across the red-checked tablecloth. Colton was handsome in the flickering candlelight.

He had no idea I was reviewing my Manlist in my head, and checking off items one by one.

Maybe I could fall in love with this guy. Of course, I wasn't going to rush the situation and act desperate and crazy, but this man had potential. After all, why date someone who didn't have what I wanted for the long haul?

During my first few years of college, I dated my share of losers. You know the type of guy I'm talking about. The ones who are fun to hang out with, but have no future. They talk a good game but don't really have a long-term plan in place. I’ve wasted some time with more than one of those guys.

I like plans. I like goals. You need plans and goals in order to have a successful future. For example, let me tell you about my plan for success. I finished my college degree in journalism about a year ago. While I was in school, I worked all the best internships I could find, got good grades, and collected stellar letters of reference. Now I am in graduate school pursuing my Master's degree. I planned to author an awesome thesis project, graduate, and get a job in nearby Jackson, Mississippi. That way I could advance my career while being close enough to home to take care of my grandmother back in our small town of Peacock.

I would marry, of course, and have exactly two children. Why two? I was an only child, and sometimes that was lonely growing up. More than two sounded like more than I could handle. So, precisely two children. Then I would go back to school to get my doctorate and become a professor.

I thought out every step in detail. You can't leave things to chance, or fate, or whatever. You need a plan if you want things to work out. A plan helps you stay in control of life, so there aren’t any nasty surprises. So if I didn't want to continue dating losers, I needed to come up with a plan for that.

I created a checklist of what I'm looking for in a man, Lucy Bennett's Manlist. I had started out calling it my Man Checklist, but it just shortened itself naturally over time to Manlist. Then I color-coded it, blew it up, and laminated it. Hung it on the wall next to my desk. Here’s what it covered.

I'm sure every single girl in the country has one of these color-coded, poster-sized lists hanging up on their walls. No? Just me? Okay, maybe not every girl has a list this organized, but they probably have one in their head.

I selected each item based on a personal experience I had dating, or had at least witnessed first hand through one of my friends’ dating lives. For example, I dated this one guy, Kevin. Kevin was cute and charming, and we had a lot of fun playing beer pong one weekend. But Kevin spent all of his free time smoking marijuana and playing video games. He moved from couch to couch in his friends’ apartments because he spent all of his money on pot and games.

I didn’t want any more Kevins in my life, so I came up with my checklist.

Let's look at the data, shall we? Let's compare Colton to the Manlist.

1. Job

"So tell me, what do you do for a living? Karen didn't give me a lot of information about you. She just told me I had to go out with this great guy she knows." I made air quotes as I talked.

Colton smiled and leaned closer to me. He smelled nice, like a pine forest. "I'm an accountant at Delaney, Reynolds, and Smith. I've worked there two years now, and I really love my job."

Colton had a job as an accountant. How great was that? Cut and dried. A numbers man. Excellent. That suggested he would always have steady work and could balance his checkbook.

Check job off the list.

"That's awesome. I'm just working part-time myself, at the coffee shop in town. You know, Witches' Brew? I'm putting myself through graduate school right now." I closed my menu without even looking at it. I always ordered the fettuccine alfredo when I ate Italian. Good stuff. Hard for a restaurant to mess up.

1. Good living situation

Like any responsible single girl, I hadn't let Colton pick me up for this fix-up. Instead, I met him at the restaurant. So he didn't know where I lived on campus, and I didn't know where he lived. Time to fix that.

"Karen told me you guys met when you were living in the same dorm. Cresswell, right?" We paused the conversation long enough to give our orders to the smiling server.

"Yeah, I lived in Cresswell for two years. It wasn't bad as far as dorms go. Then I had an apartment off campus, over on Hillview. Now that place was awful. The air conditioner was always breaking down, and the ceiling over my bed had this huge water stain. Don't even get me started on the carpet. As soon as I got my job at the firm and saved up the down payment, I bought a condo." Colton leaned back as he spoke.

"You own your condo? That's great! I still live in campus housing. I guess I will until I finish my master's degree. It's the cheapest option, and I don't mind dorm life." I sipped my sweet tea and surveyed him over the glass.

I was impressed that Colton was a homeowner. Now, don't get the wrong idea. I am not materialistic. Not at all. But I was done dating guys who couch surfed. I wanted a man with a stable living environment.

"Yeah. I live in that new complex over on Shady Grove. It's pretty small, just two bedrooms, but that's all I need. I have a roommate to help pay the bills, so that way I can get ahead on the mortgage. I have a plan to pay off the note in twelve years, instead of thirty."

He had a plan? I wonder if he color-coded it.

That's a definite check for a good living situation.

In my head, I scanned down the Manlist to number three.

1. Loving/caring

It was way too early to assess number three. Although Colton did hold the door open for me when I entered the restaurant, so that was something, right? I guess only time would tell, for sure.

The server placed our food in front of us with a flourish. A new song came on, Angel by Sarah McLachlan. You know, that sad, sappy song that plays over and over in the commercials that show cold, malnourished puppies with big, soulful eyes. Aha! An opportunity.

"This song always gets to me. You know that commercial, right? With the abused animals?" I twirled fettuccine on my fork and glanced at Colton.

"Yeah. Those poor dogs. I have to admit I signed up to give $20 bucks a month to the animal rescue fund." He wiped his mouth with his napkin. "I don't even have a pet, but that commercial made me whip out my credit card."

Check.

What's next? Oh, yes.

1. No temper tantrums

Too soon to call, but so far no red flags.

I remembered a date with a classmate not too long ago. Mitchell had become enraged when he got cut off in traffic, and had tailgated the driver for miles, honking his horn and acting a fool.

I would have to watch Colton carefully for signs of a temper.

1. Loves animals

See number three above.

Check.

This date was going very well. There were only ten items on my Manlist.

1. Does not smoke pot

I wasn't really against marijuana, but I had seen enough stoners in college to realize I did not want to spend my future in the drive-thru line of Taco Bell at midnight on a Friday just because someone had the munchies.

"So I saw on Facebook that California just legalized recreational marijuana use. What do you think about that?" I smiled at him, the picture of innocence. Just making conversation here, as any good date would.

His eyes shifted away from mine as he leaned back and scratched his chin. "I hadn't heard that. Good for them, I guess. I'm not much of pot smoker, myself. I have a regular job to go to every day. I don't need the distraction." He tried to coax ketchup from the bottle with his butter knife.

"I know, right? My roommate my first year in school smoked pot all the time. She didn't come back for our second year." We fell into a comfortable silence; the only sounds were the occasional scraping of a fork or the chink of ice in our glasses.

1. Does not spend all his free time playing video games

"So tell me, what do you like to do in your spare time?" Colton's eyes sparkled at me as we finished eating, then he glanced over my shoulder and stiffened.

I turned in my chair to see what had attracted his attention. I didn't see anything unusual at all. Just an older couple sharing a pizza, and a tall, well-built man who had his back to us as he waited in line for his to go order.

I turned back around. "I like to read and write in my journal. I like to clean my room and organize my stuff." I laughed a little. "My friends will tell you I like order. Everything has to be in its place at all times. I make a lot of lists to keep me organized and on track." I put my fork down. "What about you?"

"I dabble a little in the stock market. Not much, but I like to research stocks and see what might be a good investment. I made over $1,000 on Bitcoin last week." He tapped his fingers on the table and looked around for our server.

I noticed he was sweating a little. That's odd. The restaurant was a bit chilly. I hoped he wasn't getting sick.

"What about video games? Most of my male friends play a little." That was an understatement. Most of my male friends played a lot. It could get annoying, so that's why I added it to my list. I liked playing with them sometimes, but I didn't want it to be a daily activity.

"I like to play Grand Theft Auto, but not very often. I'm at least two versions behind. Sometimes I play with my roommate, but I would rather do something else." He succeeded in flagging down the server and started looking over our tab.

Check.

1. Excellent potential as a father

Too soon.

1. Reasonably attractive

Colton had blond hair and blue eyes. He had muscles, but not so many he would spend more time at the gym than with me.

Definite check.

That made me reconsider part of number eight.

1. Excellent potential as a father

Too soon.  The blond hair and blue eyes combo would produce some pretty babies. We would look good together since I had matching blond curls and dark blue eyes of my own. On second thought, that was the superficial stuff.

Okay, okay. Too soon.

1. Dependability

Colton showed up on time for our date. He was actually fifteen minutes early. That's a sign of dependability, right?

Okay, I know it's too soon to tell.

Overall, I was impressed. I had chosen my ten items for my Manlist with great care. I tried to make them scientific and measurable. Sure, some of it is subjective, but as long as I could offer evidence for or against each item, I was good with it.

Colton was scoring high on our first date. Now it was a matter of spending some time with him to prove or disprove my theory that he was a potential life partner.

See what I mean about having a plan? A plan doesn't let you down. A plan doesn't disappoint. I had this all figured out.

I was good at this dating stuff.

Colton slapped down a wad of cash on the table to pay the bill.

"Ready to go? I was thinking maybe we could drive over to Maple Grove and catch a movie." He stood up. "I'm hoping you've spent enough time with me now to be okay with getting in my car." His smile was warm and teasing, but I noticed his eyes cut back over my shoulder.

"Sure! That sounds like fun. Let me stop by the restroom first. I'll meet you outside." I grabbed my purse and headed down a short hallway, looking for the restroom. 

I took care of business and went toward the front door of the restaurant. In my rush, I bumped into someone by accident.

"Oh, sorry!" I flashed a smiling apology and then did a double take.

Amazing gray eyes stared down at me. In a flash, I saw sweaty, intense sex. Rumpled sheets. Toe curling orgasms. I swayed a little, and the stranger caught me by the arm.

"Are you okay, ma'am?" His voice was deep and authoritative.

Ma'am? That was a reality check.

"I'm fine. Sorry, just lost my balance a bit for a moment." I backed away and spun out the front door, flustered by my strong reaction to a complete stranger.

Colton had pulled his car in front of the restaurant. I climbed in and breathed in the luxurious new car smell, still distracted by the hottie I had just met in passing. I was surprised when Colton slammed the car into drive before I even put my seatbelt on. Clicking the belt into place, I turned to find him studying his rear view mirror.

"Everything okay?" I cleared my throat when he ignored my question. He didn't seem to really even hear me. "Colton? Is there a problem?"

He pulled out onto the road and accelerated hard.

Blue lights lit up the dark interior of the car. Uh oh. I twisted in the leather seat and looked out the back window with apprehension. An unmarked police car was close behind us. The blue lights were coming from its dash.

Did we run a stop sign or something? We couldn't have. We just pulled out of the restaurant parking lot. Or maybe Colton was speeding a little. He was driving kind of fast.

And now he was speeding up.

"Colton?"

No answer.

"COLTON! Don't you think you should pull over?" I twisted the seatbelt strap with one sweaty hand and stared hard at my date.

Colton had been attentive all evening, but now it was like I didn't exist. I glanced at his instrument panel. We were going seventy in a forty mile per hour zone, and he kept accelerating. Colton turned a corner, and I slid into the door. He hunched over the steering wheel and focused with a single-minded purpose on the dark road ahead of us.

"Oh my gosh! ARE YOU CRAZY?" Still no answer from the lunatic who was driving the car. "Colton. Listen to me! You've got to pull over."

No answer.

“Are you seriously running from the cops?” I was reduced to yelling.

When he continued to ignore me, I gave up on talking to him and studied my options instead. I needed a plan, stat. Some might say I needed a list to consult.

1. Jump out of the car.
2. Pull the keys out of the ignition.

Okay, two options. Which one would work the best? As fast as we were traveling down the road, jumping out of the car seemed like a suicidal move.

1. Jump out of the car.
2. Pull the keys out of the ignition.

Would pulling the keys out of the ignition do anything? Would they even come out? I looked at the steering column while holding on to my seat as Colton took another hard turn without slowing. No keys!

1. Jump out of the car.
2. Pull the keys out of the ignition.

That new car scent meant modern technology. He had a fob with no real key, the kind that just has to be close to the car for the driver to push a button to start the engine.

So where was the key fob? My eyes moved with a frantic speed that matched Colton's crazy driving. Where was it? In his pocket? Shit!

I saw a bulge in the pants' pocket that was closest to me. New plan needed.

1. Jump out of the car.
2. Pull the keys out of the ignition.
3. Somehow get that key fob out of his pocket and throw it out of the window.

I lunged across the center console and grabbed his pocket. That got his attention.

"What the fuck are you doing? Don't try to distract me right now. I'm driving." I was offended by the indignant tone he used with me.

Did Captain Obvious think I was making a move on him or something? I ignored his terse words and dug in his pocket.

I pulled the key fob free with a dramatic, "Aha!", and then I pushed the button to lower my window.

I was empowered. I was Superwoman. I was going to shut this nut job down.

"What are you doing with that? HEY! Give that back, bitch!" Colton grabbed at me with one hand, but a slower moving car in front of us caused him to swerve out of his lane. He gripped the steering wheel as he concentrated on his reckless maneuvering.

The sirens were deafening by this point, and I vaguely noticed that other police cars had joined the chase. I waved my arms wildly at the cop car right behind us. Did they realize I wasn't a part of whatever this was? But I didn't have time to concentrate on that right now.

I pitched the key fob out of the window and watched it fly with an air of satisfaction. I sat back to watch my master plan go into effect.

And nothing happened.

Fuck my life.

I needed a new plan.

1. Jump out of the car.
2. Pull the keys out of the ignition.
3. Somehow get that key fob out of his pocket and throw it out of the window.
4. ???

I was drawing a blank. Come on, Lucy! Think!

1. Jump out of the car.
2. Pull the keys out of the ignition.
3. Somehow get that key fob out of his pocket and throw it out of the window.
4. Call 911.

Calling 911 wouldn't stop the car, but it would at least let the police know I wasn't cool with Colton's dangerous plan. I was not his accomplice.

I grabbed my cell phone and hit 911 with shaking fingers.

"911. What's your emergency?" The speaker was calm and professional.

I was not.

"I'm riding in a car with a driver who won't stop even though the police are trying to pull him over." I tried to take a breath. "His name is Colton, and we are on Highway 51 right now."

"What's your name, ma'am?" Still calm.

"I'm Lucy Bennett." Still hysterical.

"And the police are trying to pull over a car you are in right now?" How the fuck did these people stay so calm all the time?

"YES. And he won't stop. I don't know what's wrong with him. He needs to pull over for the police!" I concentrated on my breathing. In and out. In and out. “I need some help here.”

The 911 operator continued talking in a calm, matter of fact voice. "Ma'am, I'm letting the officers know you are asking for assistance."

BAM! The car jolted and swerved slightly, and I dropped the phone in surprise. I tried to reach for it, but my seatbelt was too tight. No way was I taking the seatbelt off while he was driving this way.

"Damn it all to hell." Colton clenched the steering wheel even tighter. His forehead was sweating. "Stop sticks! Motherfucker."

Sure enough, I looked behind us and saw an officer on the side of the road, pulling back an object on a chain of some sort. Colton's car began wobbling, and he cursed some more.

"Just pull over, okay? Just. Pull. Over!" My voice ended in a shrill shriek. I clutched my chest and prayed for divine intervention. In the distance, I heard the 911 operator still speaking, but I was over it. I couldn't talk now. I was sure I was having a heart attack or at least a small stroke.

Colton slammed on the brakes, but I had my seatbelt off before the car came to a complete stop. I heard shouting in the distance, something about my name and 911, but I blocked everything out and wrenched my door open. I bailed from the car, turned and ran straight towards the safety of the police officers, screaming for help. Before I had taken more than two steps, I slammed into a rock hard chest, and steely arms clutched me in a vise grip. Looking up, I stared into intense gray eyes.

"I've got you, ma'am. Relax and put your hands behind your back." The deep voice rolled over me, dispelling my terror.

Sweet mother of pearl. It was the sexy man from the restaurant. If this was the response the town of Peacock sent out in emergency situations, I should call 911 more often.

And then my eyes rolled back in my head, and I fainted.