I thought he was cute, really cute. And I loved that he taught himself English by watching episodes of Arrested Development. That's adorable.
What's not so adorable: MURDER.
After spending an hour or so making small talk, I made a little joke: "I think we'll get along fine as long as you're not some crazy hobo killer or anything."
He seemed to take my joke as an opportunity to confess that, yes, in fact, he WAS a hobo killer.
As I sipped my beer, he recounted the story of the time he was sixteen and living on the streets in Cuzco and had to defend his life by stabbing a homeless man in the chest. I silently counted the seconds 'til I could run out of the room.
Here's a pro tip: some things are better left for fourth, fifth or NEVER date banter. Clearly, the story of murdering a vagrant would be an example of that.