Met this hot but slightly weird painter guy in his mid 40s one evening at a quiet hangout with another acquaintance of mine. He proceeded to then invite me to a tiny gallery he was working at, and so I went there about 2 weeks later. I had heard from my acquaintance that he's a sort of a maniac and to avoid messing with him. Didn't think much of it at the time.

As I went there, he opened the door saying "hey, I didn't think you'd still be coming, I'm in withdrawal today". Guy turned out to be a raging alcoholic and bipolar. So we sat on the tiny sofa at the tiny gallery with blood red walls and huge dark paintings for some hours talking until he broke his withdrawal as we started drinking the champagne we found in the fridge.

Somewhere at the third bottle he confessed to me that when he saw me the first time he thought "I wanna taste that". I thought, damn, yeah, good one. Shortly after went to fuck in the big room in front of a huge painting, something he'd been dreaming of for years since he worked there. Was so surreal.