So there I was, scrolling through Hinge when I stumbled upon Tom, a charming guy with a killer smile and a bio that read like the perfect blend of sarcasm and introspection. We hit it off over a few witty exchanges about our mutual hatred for pineapple on pizza and our love for late-night bagels. But there was one little detail I brushed off: Tom had a collection of over 200 bobbleheads. At first, I thought, "Oh, quirky!" I mean, who doesn't love a man with hobbies that double as conversation starters? But upon our first date at a trendy little bar in Brooklyn, as we sat down and he casually mentioned that he brought one of his favorites with him for 'moral support,' the subtle red flag waved at me like a lollipop in a candy store. "Meet Bob," he said, unveiling a giant bobblehead of a vintage baseball player from his backpack. I couldn't decide whether to laugh or flee. Suddenly, Tom was less charming, and more like the kid at school who was way too enthusiastic about collecting stamps. I could feel the weight of Bob's unblinking eyes on me like a judgmental grandparent waiting to assess my life choices. As the night wore on, I realized this wasn’t just a date. It was more like an audience participation show, with Tom enthusiastically recounting the backstories of each bobblehead in his collection. By the time he explained the significance of Bob's missing