His dreams apparently needed a nondisclosure agreement

I thought he was kidding when he slid an NDA across the table before our appetizers. I'm a woman who once mistook a parking ticket for a secret admirer note, so I gave optimism another shot. He said he couldn't discuss his dreams without protection. I assumed startup ideas. Nope. Sleep dreams. Last Tuesday he'd dreamed of a bowling alley where the pins were mayors, and apparently I looked like someone who might steal that. I declined to sign. He continued anyway, replacing sensitive details with loud beeps he made himself. Every time the server approached, he covered his soup. Then he asked about my dreams. I mentioned a recurring one where I miss a train. He wrote something down and said, "Transportation. Interesting territory." I paid for my food and left. He texted asking me to confirm I'd forgotten the mayors. I said I couldn't discuss an ongoing train project.