I had a concert date with a guy I been out with a few times, a friend of a friend.
When I showed up at his place, he was completely drunk because apparently it was a bank holiday which he translated as "party your butt off" because he had a free day from work. I was completely sober.
When the music started he proceeded to dance in insane ways and attempted to get me to do the same by holding me and jumping up and down, oblivious to the tears in my eyes. It was so uncomfortable.
Needless to say we didn't go out again after that. I heard through the pipeline he was rather embarrassed.
a first breakfast date with a guy that responded to my personal ad. 10 mins into the date he started talking about his daughter. ok cool. I don't have a problem with that. and then he looked at me and said that he was ready to have a son now.
check please.
My worste date was my own fault. I took an attractive woman out a couple of years ago, where we ended up sharing a bottle of wine over dinner. Now, usually, I know better and switch to another form of alcohol after eating, because too much vino puts me right to sleep...
So we grabbed some drinks at a bar afterwards, where she proceeded to order me another glass of wine before I could stop her. Next thing I knew, and QUITE a few glasses of wine later, I was vaguely aware of slipping into la-la-land, before my date prodded me awake and suggested that maybe I should catch a taxi home...
The ladies were just lining up after that one, lemme tell ya...
The worst one...
I met this lovely girl and we proceeded to go out for some dinner at her favorite restaurant. She was funny, goregous, smart, and really into me. I was charming, hillarious, and totally into her. It was at the risk of sounding silly, kismet. We were totally in sync, nerding out over the same stuff, finishing eachother's scentences. We totally got eachother. We closed out the restaurant and ended up spending the night up till 3am talking and totally enamoured. On the ride home I married her over and over, dreamed up our home, named our kids, planned our anniversaries... It goes without saying that I had totally fallen in love at first sight.
I spoke to her many times and the conversation was indeed amazing; we were totally into eachother and smitten. And despite all attempts, she didn't have time, wouldn't have time, or just couldn't make time for me.
I never saw her again.
And so the best date of my life, the date on which I though I had met my love, my future wife, my other, ended up being the date that broke my heart and as such the worst date I've ever been on.
The conversation invariably turned to politics.
She: I'm a Republican. Sometimes I volunteer for campaigns and various issues.
Me: Awkward silence . . .
It was our third date. We were walking through a park, at which point he tackled me from behind, pinned me to the ground and tried to make out with me, all the while rubbing his erection against my leg. This was also the same date when the guy pretended to punch me in the face to get me to stop talking, his fist stopping mere inches from my nose.
I couldn't end the date fast enough.
Dinner hit a sour note after he talked about his love of god and how his mom is moving to some Central American country to do mission work... then he asked me about god and I said "I prefer not to talk about politics or religion in polite company" - to which he responded "OooOOOhhh! Touchy subject for ya?" ... so yeah. After an awkward-but-not-horrific dinner, we went to a bar. I figured if he got annoying he'd be easier to ignore or if it came down to it - ditch. It was a Saturday night so the bar was fairly crowded and when he got up to go to the bathroom, someone squeezed into his spot to order a drink. Pretty common behavior. My date came back from the bathroom just as the drink orderer had gotten his drink and was maneuvering out of the spot. Date asked in a nasty accusatory tone "Friend of yours?" Uhh.. whatever. Happened again, date had to pee, somebody else came in to order a drink. This time, date didn't even wait for drink-orderer to leave, he just reached over the guy, slammed the rest of his beer, slammed the glass on the bar, threw down a tip and STORMED outta the bar. ...huh?
I went out with a guy on a blind date who took me out on the water and proceeded to take a lot of drugs and pass out. I was on the lake for 6 hours before he woke up and drove me back to dock at 3am.
Nothing too traumatic, but I knew within five minutes when my date said she didn't know "what the big deal was about the Beatles" and "only listens to dance music" that this was not the girl for me. Who only listens to one kind of music? And if you only like one -- really, dance music?
My worst "date" is not so much a singular event but a string of tepid, not-so-great but not terrible dates that have not led to any significant connection, intimacy or most importantly, SEX.
Just one worst date?
The guy who didn't mention he was a midget or that he lived out of state.
The guy who looked at a $13 Goden Nugget bill and said, "Ooh, that's expensive. I've got seven dollars."
The guy who told me, "Admit it, if we'd met in person you never would have gone out with me. White women won't go on dates with asian men." Yet, there I was--a white woman on a date with an asian man who I knew was asian when I agreed to the date.
The guy who said, "If the office calls, I might have to go and harvest a brain."
The guy who read my entire blog before our first date. I said, "This one time in Rome..." and he said, "Oh, yeah, that was a funny, I read all about it." Leaving me with no stories to tell.
My worst date ever never actually happened.
I had been talking to this guy over the internet and suggested we meet. But then I thought twice and decided against it, which I conveyed quite clearly. On my way home, via the "L", I missed five calls from him. Each voicemail he left got increasingly more erratic and the last one he left was "I'm not easily bothered by things, but YOU ARE MAKING ME VERY ANGRY".
I was sort of scared for my life at that point and since we had earlier decided to meet at a coffee shop near my apartment (before I cancelled), I had my best friend pick me up in my alley and I slept at her place.
The next day he wrote me a very psychotic email.
I'm glad we never met and therefore did not have the worst date ever.
This one was pretty bad. Sadly, it's not the worst date I've ever had.
a couple sour dates with ladies who could both go by Miss Represent.
third meeting - halfway into a nice dinner she starts talking about how she's unable to getaway for a great travel opprtunity later in the month because of concrete weekend plans.
me: like what?
her: oh...i'm throwing a 30th birthday party...for my boyfriend.
me: are we not on a date right now?
her: i'm so embarassed.
second meeting - after meeting new year's eve, expressing an unmistakable interest, flattering her repeatedly, expressing excitement at hanging out and showering her with compliments, we meet at a bar, have a great time, flirting, really get into a rhythm, enjoying the moment. we close the bar, i'm walking her home and as we literally get to her door, she says, 'i probably should have told you this earlier, but i'm sort of seeing someone.'
ladies, if you're taken, please let us know right away. not that we're only interested in one thing, but it helps to know the possibilities. it doesn't matter how silly a way you work it in. try this at a bar, 'oh, you're drinking beer. my boyfriend loves beer!' whatever, just let us know the lay of your land. cheers.
my first date was my worst.
i was the biggest nerd in school in junior high and a total social pariah. so freshman year of high school i'd never been on a date, never held hands, never had a boyfriend. somehow a friend of mine (who was pretty and popular *and* smart, which was kind of amazing) managed to get her boyfriend to ask his friend to ask me to the homecoming dance. his friend was the boy i'd had a major, enormous crush on for about 4 years.
so a lot of it was totally awkward and cringeworthy, of course, but i got acclimated and we ended up having some good conversation, and a pretty fun time. i couldn't dance, so that part sucked, but all in all i enjoyed myself.
then they dropped me off (we all drove together) and he tried to kiss me goodnight. i'd never kissed anyone before, and i just kind of kept my lips shut and pressed them against his, and it had to have been the single worst kiss ever in the history of the world.
i was still kind of elated and amazed by the whole thing the next day, and i assumed we'd be a couple and go on dates and hold hands and all that, but he wouldn't talk to me in band on monday and avoided me like the plague after that. i heard from some people he made fun of the attempted kiss, as well.
luckily the next year i went to a high school with dorms where people didn't really date, just hooked up whenever possible. a much better system.
I went quail hunting with Dick Cheney and he shot me in the face.
My worst date was on a Friday in April years and years ago.
I went with my husband to Ford's Theatre. There was a gentleman interrupting us and we only saw part of the show.
Worst date I have ever been on.
When we first got to Chicago, I tried to take my then-girlfriend to the movies. I didn't have the busses figured out, and we ended up standing at Clybourn and Damen for an hour. I didn't have the city figured out in general - who'da thunk the movies would be sold out on Valentine's? We split not long afterward.
It was an internet date, and I was the first to arrive. The little bar where we were meeting, was pretty crowded, so I took a seat at a cocktail table. My date arrived and he was absolutely adorable, but the first thing he did was complain that we were at a table because he "usually drinks for free at the bar." Bad sign.
After about two minutes of painful conversation... he mostly talked about how he "knows everyone" that went to this bar... it was blatantly obvious that this was going to be a long night. As a teacher, I like to think I'm skilled at getting people to talk, and this guy had nothing to say... hobbies? travel? music? Nothing. Work? I never did find out what he did for a living. When I first asked him, he said, "I'm unemployed". His profile said sales/marketing, so I assumed he had recently lost his job. I was operating under the unemployed assumption until some friends of his "from work" showed up at the bar.
The friends from work were from Russia, and after he greeted them, they asked us to join them... and so we did. I was relieved to be around some people who might actually be able to carry on a conversation.
The Russians, whose names I forgot almost immediately, weren't very interesting either... they'd only known my date for a month, and they'd only been in Chicago for the same amount of time. I tried asking about Moscow, places they'd been in the US... nothing. All three of them then proceeded to joke about work stuff... and I STILL had no idea what any of them did for a living. In the meantime, my date was getting more and more drunk? I quietly sipped my Chianti and kept a giant fake smile plastered on my face as I focused on the Bulls game on the TV, wishing I cared about basketball for once in my life.
As my date got progressively more wasted, he apparently decided that he liked me, and started putting his hands on my legs and back, and giving me weird compliments (if you can call them as such). "You have a great nose, " he slurred and then later, "You're modest." I couldn't figure that one out, and he finally explained that it was because I put "average" down for my body type on my profile.
An hour had passed, and I knew it was time to go, but right before I was able to escape, one of the Russians said they wanted cigarettes, and my inebriated date offered to go get them. In an instant, he put on his coat, and vanished.
There I was in this bar, knowing I couldn't just take off, with a couple of Russians who didn't have much of anything to say to me. It wasn't very comfortable, but we managed to talk weakly about Chicago for the ten minutes that my date was gone.
When he returned, I immediately wrapped myself in my coat and made a move to leave. The check came, and I handed him $20 for my two glasses of wine (more than enough). He took it, then pulled out a credit card, and paid for everyone... EXCEPT ME!!!! Not only did he keep my $20, but he didn't even offer to give me any change!!! At this point, I was almost laughing in his face.
The Russians walked out, and I scrambled after them. The date stopped me, grabbed me and hugged me, saying he wanted to take me out again, and he was going to see some band at the Metro... he was too drunk to remember... and I said, "OK, you can email it to me tomorrow" and got the HELL out of there. When I was a block away, I started to laugh and couldn't stop until I started calling my friends.
not as bad as many of these but still pretty rough...
back in high school, this girl liked me. a lot. she would stare at me during classes & such. she started asking me out on dates for big ticket items (queensryche concerts & such)... i always had legitimate reasons why i couldn't go. one day i didn't, so i ended up going with her to some school dance thing at a holiday inn. we sat in the lobby for three hours looking at the potted plants as both of us were painfully shy & didn't want to dance. her mom showed up to pick her up from the dance about 20 minutes early. so now the three us were sitting and looking at potted plants, not really talking or interacting...
uncomfortable. looking back, she was quite smart & fairly attractive (& willing to buy queensryche tickets!) & i regret being so wallflower-y.
My worst was with someone who used to come into my job; it was just an awkward night. He invited me to a concert one week and then invited me on a date the next week to make sure we'd get along well enough for the concert. Fine and dandy, whatever.
In a nutshell: he was 30 minutes late to pick me up and seemed slightly scared or upset that I was towering over him by 4 inches. Guess flats would have been a better shoe choice. He took me to his apartment after dinner so he could go to the bathroom and this is what I saw- he was 30, living in a studio apartment in the Gold Coast and the only furnishings he had were a mattress on the floor, directly in front of the TV and twin size futon that was pretty much in the corner. His video collection included the WWF 1977-1997 box set. He invited me to stay and watch a movie. Yay, oh goody! Do I get to sit on the icky mattress or on the futon that's no where near the tv?? I declined, he offered to go for drinks, I reminded him I was 19, he seemed shocked that I didn't have a fake ID and then he finally took me home. He made sure to mention at least 2 more times how he couldn't believe I didn't have a fake.
The next week I told him I forgot that I had to babysit the night of the concert and couldn't go. That was pretty much the last I saw of him. I should have known better, too- in my head, no normal 30 year-old should date or try to date a 19 year-old.
I also had one date who said "oh yeah I love Thai food. Well, I've never had it but I know it's just like Chinese food." This was the same guy who left his wallet in the car and seemed surprised when I let people go in front of me to get their tickets while he took his sweet time going back to the car to get his wallet. Woops, didn't realize that him leaving his wallet was a hint for me to pay.
I took a girlfriend to Summerdance and I gave up dancing in the middle of it because I was so self-conscious and could not nail the steps down. She took it personally, criticized me, and I felt inadequate and weird. I realized later that I felt this way a lot around her, even when I wasn't being a self-conscious dork.
I've been on dates with people I had little to nothing in common with, but luckily they were nice and normal, so the dates weren't bad experiences.
I have a "first date" with someone tomorrow and she is lovely... hopefully I will not be writing a follow-up.
I have never been on a bad date, because I'm extraordinarily charming and clever, and romantic to boot. In point of fact, I pity anybody who hasn't been on a date with me. Poor you.
Here I was, on what I thought was the best date in my entire life. Dressed in my pinstripe suit and straw hat, off to the Biograph to see a Clark Gable film with not just one, but TWO girlfriends, whoop tee-doo. So we're on the way out of the theater, I'm picturing the fun I'm going to have back at the hideout in three shakes of a lamb's tail with my regular moll and this new Romanian dame in the red dress, and this goddamn FBI man walks up and shoots me dead, just like that. No wonder I had that embarassing lump, making a tent out of the morgue sheet, in THAT location.
Which one do you want?
The one where the dude ran a knife up and down his arm, then later decided to show me all of his piercings and tattoos...which led to him taking out his penis and showing me those ones?
The one where I went to the bathroom to plot my escape from a very bad first date and returned to find him undressed from the waist down only and standing at full attention in my honor?
The one where I got roped into a date I didn't realize was a date and was subjected to a very, very drunk guy and a Shakespeare play...with the former's voice interrupting the latter?
The one where I got flat out stood up, and then the guy called to yell at me for standing him up...although there was NOBODY ELSE in the place we were to meet when we were to meet?
Really, where should I begin?
I suck at dates.
- there was that one homecoming dance during senior year in HS when I showed up with my date and my ex- ran to the bathroom bawling as soon as she saw us...but her date should actually take credit for having the bad date. I just showed up.
- there was that time I offered to walk my broken legged date home from the bar and on the way to her place I could have sworn she was muttering swears under her breath about the way I offered to accompany her home. Luckily we were only a block or two away at this point. I probably shouldn't have grown a moustache between dates.
- then there was the lunch date who told me she had plans to meet somebody after work that day to discuss financial arrangements with a guy she found on Craigslist who offered to pay off her debt No Strings Attached. I thought the chain smoking during the entire lunch was bad enough.
I met this guy through a friend, figured he was a poor hipster/musician/artist like the rest of my friends. He picks me up to go out to dinner. "How about (type of food)? I know a great place!" Sounds good to me. We arrive at a four star restaurant. I am wearing jeans.
He pays for the entire dinner. I am feeling uncomforable about that, and insist on paying half. I pay half. ($70 I can't afford.) We go to a bar. He proceeds to comment on my hair, and asked why I wear it the way I do, and that it needs to be dyed because my roots show. I object and tell him he's an ass, but he says that he "works with models all day and notices these things." Ick.
Third date. I realize pretty quickly the guy is pretty coked up or something. We're at a bar talking, and he starts yelling at me that if I don't go and fufill my unrealized lesbian tendencies ASAP that I'm never going to have a healthy relationship. I was like, "Oookay. I'm going to leave now..." He continued yelling at me as I walked out.
I find this funny now, but did not at the time. I was a sophmore in HS and most of my friends were going to the prom with their boyfriends who were juniors or seniors. I wanted to go to the prom too, and my best friend knew of a senior guy who liked me, so she set us up. I was not attracted to this guy in anyway, but stupid me, I wanted to go to prom. We went on a double date with my friend and her boyfriend where we went to Burger King and saw Falling Down. After the movie, we went back to my friend's house to watch TV. Around midnight we all went home. No hooking up occured, but that didn't keep my date from telling all of his friends in the senior class (we lived in a small town so word spread fast) that he had sex with me on my friend's kitchen table - a kitchen table that happened to be located in front of a large bay window that faced a main road in our town. I didn't go to the prom and for the rest of my HS career I was known as the girl who "had sex on a kitchen table on a first date."
More recently, I answered a guy's ad on craigslist. He spent the entire time complaining about how he hated his job, family, friends, coworkers, apartment, neighborhood, etc., all while spitting so excessively while he spoke that he needed four heavy-duty napkins to wipe himself down. This was just one in a string of bad dates I've had at the Belmont Ann Sathers (the guys always suggested that as the place to meet), which is why I won't go there anymore -- I'm afraid it's going to be awful.
A version of this date o' mine ran on the divine Ms. Zulkey's site a few years back, but it always bears repeating, if only to remind myself why I'm happy to be married now....
A few years back after a bad breakup I was doing some mad furious blind dating via an ad I placed in the Chicago Reader.
Among the responses I received was one from a woman who didnt want to talk on the phone instead, shed send me long emails. (She was also addicted to text-messaging, which I wasn't hep to back in '02.) She told me she was between jobs after the dot.com bust but she was working a bit at a clothing boutique in Wicker Park when she wasnt mastering Simpsons trivia. In short, she seemed like my kind of gal.
So we did a meet-up at The Daily early on a Saturday eve, and she showed up dressed for a long, hard night at Neo or something tight sparkly top, skirt and knee-high boots. (Somewhere under all of that makeup, she may have had a face.)
It seemed obvious from the start that we werent clicking in person, especially since she disappeared twice within the span of a half hour with her phone rampant texting to do, I guess. After finishing her screwdriver, she hit me with Well, I have to work tomorrow, so Im gonna hit the road now.
At 8 pm. On a Saturday night. For a job at one of those little stores that opens at noon on Sundays. When shes dressed for a night out doing blow and dancing to Nitzer Ebb.
I told her not to worry about the check, and she asked what I was going to do for the rest of the eve. "Go home and laugh," I told her. And so I did.
In h.s. I had a huge crush on a guy friend of mine, so I asked him to the Sadie Hawkins-type dance we had. He didn't talk to me all night. I couldn' figure out why and was too taken aback and clueless so I didn't ask him why. A few days later I got up the guts to call him on it and he told me that he had started dating one of my best friends a day or two before the dance.
Thanks.
I went out once with this girl I'd met online and wasn't really planning to see her again, but then she emailed me all excited about how she'd gotten the job she'd interviewed for the day of our first date (doing filing in a dr's office), and wanted to do something fun to celebrate.
We'd discussed during our first date how we both had wanted to see the baseball exhibit they had at the Field Museum at the time, and she wanted to go see that. Well, I did want to see it so I figured one more date couldn't hurt...
She informs me that she doesn't drive, so I have to pick her up in Skokie (where she lives with her parents still, in her late 20's). So I drive from the city to pick her up. She wants to grab lunch, so I buy lunch. We then drive back into the city to the museum. I pay like $15 for parking. Pay almost $40 for tickets to the museum and the baseball exhibit. While in line to enter the exhibit, she says that she just likes to be friends with guys for a year or so before dating them becuase she had a bad experience with a boy once. !?!?! So if she just wanted to be friends for a year or so, why did she never once offer any money for lunch, parking, tickets, etc.? Wouldn't that make it NOT a date?
She also made lots of really dumb comments and just didn't seem to have anything going for her. I just stopped talking because I couldn't stand hearing her stupid comments anymore. We drove in silence from the museum to Skokie. Yet when I dropped her off, she said she had an amazing time and wanted to get together again... That didn't happen!
I dated this guy from the South side a few times and decided to take the red line to meet him where he was to pick me up at Howard. Well, he wasn't there and I was not familiar with the area. He showed up late with buddies who were all wasted. We were supposed to go to a banquet and on the way there he ran out of gas. Instead of walking up the street to get gas and come back he pushed the car while I steered. Then hit me up for gas money! We get to the banquet and he wanders off to talk to people leaving me on my own knowing nobody. I insisted on driving home while he passed out in the front seat. I got as near to downtown as possible, parked and left him there while I took the train home.
On the first date, she upgrades my suggestion of a pricey restaurant to an exhorbanent one. No problem, I like good food, although it was a bit much for the first date. The conversation went like a job interview, except colder and more one sided. I found out nothing about her, except that she knew how to ask questions.
I figured I failed the interview, so I was surprised when she called me (the next day) asking me out to another expensive place. I told her maybe we could go there the next weekend, but she wanted to go that night. She made some hint about it being closer to her place and that maybe I could stay the night if we had too much wine, nudge nudge. This didn't sound at all like the girl I was with the night before, so I was intrigued enough to try it again.
This time the conversation was more like a meeting with a loan officer. She out and out asked me about my credit rating. I made some joke about it not being so good after I'd get the bill with these two meals on it. She didn't find it funny, and pressed me again, expressing how important it was for her plans and goals.
At that point I planned not to be one of her goals and we ate the rest of our meal in silence.
It's a toss up between the hockey player who took me to see a sweet little movie called "ET" and then tackled me on the front seat of his car while shoving his tongue down my throat and the pothead whose idea of a date was to hang with a bunch of other people in an alley, drinking beer (we were underage) who insisted I stand behind him and wrap my arms around his waist while he peed on a garage. I've not come across such class since...thank you, God!
There are a few to choose from . . . all with the same guy. On one, he drove across several states to visit me, then picked a fight at dinner over something stupid that served as his excuse to leave. I think he just wanted me to beg him to stay, which I was stupid enough to do (he didn't, but called me several times to chat during his drive home).
On our final "date," he left me in the morning to hang out with his female roommate, before returning to take me to lunch. He then picked a fight over something stupid (see the pattern), but this time screamed at me repeatedly instead of just leaving. When I told him I wasn't going to stand for being screamed at that way, he dumped me out of his truck on the bridge behind the Art Institute. Did I mention that it had just started to rain? And instead of heeding my instruction never to contact me again, he called repeatedly and when I told him to stop, blamed "coffee consumption" on his screaming fit.
Yeah, those were bad dates. I'm glad I made it out with a life lesson: to listen to my gut instinct next time.
I had the worst date that wasn't even a date. I was at a conference, and met a colleague of a friend. He asked me to lunch, which seemed innocuous enough. After I agree, he starts reading my chest like a teleprompter.
The next day we get lunch. This lunch contained at least ten references to things that have made him cry. Lest we think this man is sensitive, not more than ten minutes in, he says (referring to an ex) -
"When I met her, she was in a halfway house. She's messed up. She tried to kill me...But you know how men are - once a woman goes down on you, you're stuck."
Riiiiight. That is how I've snagged my men.
He completely paints a picture of how lonely and desperate he is. And anything we do have in common, I can see the calculations in his head thinking, "I could fall in love with her."
Oh and lest we forget the moment he mentions he's on morphine. I say, "Really?" Instaneously he produced a handful of meds from his pocket.
Gah.
Worst date ever was with a long term girlfiend. It was New Years Eve 1999 and 30 seconds before the countdown, by the lake in Chicago, she says she wants to go home and starts to take off towards the EL. When 2000 exploded, I was in the middle of a fight, one that lasted well into the morning, ending in one of many breakups.
i've been in a relationship for 10 years, and thus not dating, so it surprises me to see that from a lot of these, girls expect guys to pay for dinner and drinks and etc. is that really how it still works? guys get stuck with a huge tab for a dinner they didn't enjoy because the date sucked? that really seems quite unfair. i guess i just figured people split everything these days. color me naive.
I always just assume that if I ask a girl out I am on the hook for the check. It's not a big deal. I would never ask a girl to an expensive restaurant for the first few dates because, not only is it weird, but it adds pressure that shouldn't be there. I appreciate it if the girl tries to split it, but I'll usually say something like, "oh, I've got it ... I asked you out." If she still prefers to split it, I'm more than happy too. To me it's like opening the door for her - - it's old-fashioned and gentlemanly, etc., and every girl I've dated has always paid for other meals or shows or drinks later, so all the money nonsense balances out in the end.
This has never happened, but if I dated a girl who expected me to buy everything, it wouldn't last very long.
he showed up in a t-shirt that said "slut." he suggested we go to the lincoln park zoo--it's free, you know. then he announced he was having a "party" at his apartment that night, and asked if i wanted to come. i said ok--stupid, but i was a teenager. so his party consists of him talking on the phone to his friend who is at work at a gas station, and later on, one friend comes over. then he falls asleep for like 2 hours. i don't really know what to do, so i just sit there watching tv. eventually, i wake him up to say i'm going home (thank god i had my own car there). without comment, he starts making out with me. ok...i'm willing to do that as a goodnight sort of thing, but i really had to head out..it was like 3AM. he starts groping me and aggressively asking me to stay the night. what??? i tell him i can't, and he angrily snaps, "well then GET OUT OF HERE." uh...right. to top it all off i got a fucking ticket on the way home. i was so disoriented by what had just happened, that i drove right through a red light.
I went out with this guy for about a month, and had with him what I thought was my worst date, only to be topped a couple of weeks later by something even worse. In retrospect I wish that I would have just ended it after the first "worst" date.
Worst Date Part 1: We are supposed to be going to dinner when we pass by a car dealership on the way. He spots a car that he likes and asks if we can just stop in to check it out. I figure that I like the guy so why not. Flash forward about 2 hours later and we're still at the dealership and he's buying the car. A car buying experience does not bring out the best in people so I got a glimpse into some of the worst parts of his personality - he was acting like a jerk to the salesman, driving like a maniac during the test drives (equating the streets of Chicago with a NASCAR track) and then telling me when it was over that he was too tired to go to dinner so basically I sat around all night like an idiot eating Cheetos out of the vending machine.
Worst Date Part 2: About two weeks later we're driving to a party in his new car. There is just no parking anywhere and after 20 minutes of driving in circles he is getting seriously pissed. Unfortunately, we started arguing about his temper, he started driving fast and didn't realize we were coming up on a red light until he hit the car stopped at the light in front of us at full speed. Thankfully my injuries were not severe (though I was laid up for a couple of weeks) but I am happy to say he completely totalled the car and that was the end of it.
I'm sure everyone has had this experience at least once, but any date where you go into the date thinking you're going to have a very pleasent, fun, enjoyable time with your significant other, but instead get surprised with a "we need to talk" and then an outright dumping, which of course happens in a public space, even though you've already had several discussions about how being dumped in a public space is mean and cruel and humiliating.
No bad dates. But that's likely because I never go out on any. Too nerdly.
But what's all this about "splitting" the check???
It was with the crocodile hunter. It was my birthday actually. I had just moved to Chicago and knew only a handful of people at the time, they all happened to be working and as Im not big on birthdays in general I was planning to spend the evening situating things around my apartment. Then I got a call from a guy Id met at a party the previous week, who insisted I not spend the evening of my birthday puttering around my apartment and offered to show me around the neighborhood (he lived sort-of nearby). He seemed nice enough and if nothing else Id be expanding the universe of people I know in Chicago, so why not.
We arranged to meet at a coffee shop, but when I got there I found him waiting outside; he said it was too hot for coffee right now (it was early August) and also that he was feeling full besides. I casually asked him what he had for dinner and he promptly responded two alligator steaks. Uh huh I sort of blinked and after a beat he added with Heintz 57 sauce presumably to not make it seem so weird. Still I found it sort of interesting and after deciding to take a stroll around the area we discussed the various game animals hed eaten (he also claimed to have eaten sloth and hummingbird meat among others.)
It was starting to get dark and we were walking through a quiet residential area when we heard some shuffling in an alleyway, he immediately went to check it out and out from behind a trash can bounded a big, bushy raccoon RIGHT AT ME. I gave a squeal and tried to dodge out of the way but the next thing I knew my date was running straight at me! I jumped again and he bellowed COME ON!! and motioned me to follow him as he chased after the raccoon, down the alley. I was shaken and didnt know what to do so I followed, we ran all the way down the alley and out into the street where SCREEETCH!! A van stopped and there was shouting. When I caught up I found my date already engaged in an argument with the driver, who had apparently hit the raccoon (it was lying under the van.) I looked on as the guy stood on the runner-board to yell into the drivers window and the van took off down the street! My date hung on and beat on the window (which the driver had rolled up) but jumped off as the van turned at the end of the block.
At this point I was pretty speechless but I was in for a bigger shock as my date limped back (he tumbled after jumping off the van) with TEARS streaming down his face. He gave me a long, sad look and then kneeled down and began gathering up the raccoon which was very dead and bleeding. We have to bury him he said. I just stared at him but he was already walking away, so I followed. Id come this far I figured and besides I was a little foggy on how to get home. So we go a block or two until he finds a grassy side-yard that isnt fenced in, he looked around and set down the raccoon and starts digging with his hands, not really paying attention to me anymore. I let him dig for a while and smoked a cigarette. But then a light came on in front of the house and someone started yelling HEY YOU KIDS GET OUTTA MY YARD BEFORE I CALL THE COPS etc. I swear, before I turned around my date was already halfway down the block, again carrying the raccoon.
So instead we went to this park where I smoke another cigarette while he digs another hole. I didnt time it but I think it was about 45 minutes before he finished. He was crying the whole time also and would periodically look up at me and mumble how it was all his fault. I said a couple things about how I needed to be getting back but he was oblivious, I just decided to wait it out. Finally he finishes, dumps the raccoon in and stands up, hes still crying. I light another cigarette and try not to look at him. Well? he says. I look up. SAY SOMETHING!! hes crying harder now. So I mutter something about God please guide this raccoon to your heavenly bosom etc, he begins to fill in the whole and who should show up then but two police officers.
Having a nice night? Uh We got a call that somebody was digging up my date turns around, at this point covered in dirt and raccoon blood. The cops look at him. Sir were going to have to ask you to come with us. And this is the point where my valiant date took off running across the park. He didnt get that far, he tried to leap over a waterfountain and caught his foot and went down pretty hard with the cop right on top of him. They handcuffed him and shoved him into the back of the car, he was still sniffling. I felt kind of bad for him but it was way too much at this point. The cops were nice enough to give me a ride to my street before hauling the crocodile hunter in. We didnt speak during the ride.
The worst part about this whole story was that nobody believed me until a couple weeks later when my date mentioned something about it to one of my friends.
i *really* really hope some of these awful dates are reading about themselves in these posts... hehe.
Anon at 10:57 wins!
Not sure if this is a date or more of an experience. While in law school, I dated a girl from California who was attending Northwestern. I flew out to LA during her spring break, and after a weekend we drove up to Oakland when I met her mom.
The week ended with us driving her new-to-her car back to Evanston, with the trip getting more and more uncomfortable the farther east we got. Finally, in Iowa, she ends the relationship. Of course, we still had to drive across Illinois in near-total silence.
I had met a girl through work right after I had moved to Chicago. It was nice enough knowing someone else in the city, we liked the same music and had similar interests. We went out to a bar and to a show for the first couple dates, even hung out with my brother and his then-gf for a double-date pizza+movie night. She asks me to her friend's wedding the following weekend, so we drove to Ohio where I was consistently ignored around people I don't know at all. Apparently she wasn't even really good friends with the bride, who was a fundamentalist Christian and had a dry reception. Later, she told me that I made good arm-candy. When it was time to leave we discovered that her keys were locked in her car. She made a joke about putting the groom's (apparently renowned) skills to work, but ended up instead waiting 3hrs for the AAA lock-picker to show up. We drove silently back to Chicago -- having run out of things to say shortly before the arm-candy comment -- splitting a quiet dinner at Denny's. When she dropped me off I shook her hand and didn't even look back. The next morning I deleted her phone number from my cell phone, which worked out wonderfully because she never called me back either.
back at my alma mater, good old ISU, there were weekly movies played in one of the lecture halls. The movie Breakfast Club was playing, and I agreed to go out with this guy who was pleasant enough, but a bit of a nerd. So before we went to the movies we had a few beers and during the movie I heard him burp, and then he threw up into his sweater.
Poor Bill. I'm sure he's a wealthy, successful computer dude now, and has lost his nerd status, but I couldn't look at him after that.
granny (go redbirds!)
A friend set us up. We had emailed back and forth for about a week prior and he was a *great* writer, which is hot, so I agreed to meet up. We went out for dinner, but the guy was overly hipsterish [living in the suburbs, mind you, WITH HIS PARENTS] and was hell-bent on being rude to people. To the waitstaff, this slightly porky girl on the street, the door dude at a show, EVERYONE.
His idea of 'funny' was to be sarcastic/malicious and pointing out random stranger's faults in a passive-aggressive manner. He'd say shitty things within earshot. I was so embarrassed to be associated with some jackass who obviously has his own esteem issues.
That was 2 1/2 years ago and he STILL emails me [all unanswered].
From what I hear, he still lives with his parents. Who else could live with him?
My worst date was several years ago. I had just moved to Chicago and didn't know anyone. My older sister came to town with a group of her friends, and I met up with them for a chance to finally check out the nightlife. The concierge at her hotel told her that Rush and Division was "where it's at," and I didn't know any better, so off we went. I ended up meeting a cute, funny guy that my sister and her friends all drooled over. We exchanged numbers. Two weeks later I hadn't heard from him, so I called him and left a message. He called me back at 10 PM the following Friday, asking me to come to his place and watch a movie. I was so thrilled to hear from him that I said yes, but I reconsidered on the way over. As he got in my car I asked "Would you mind if we went out to a movie? Or got a drink somewhere? We don't really know each other, and I guess I'd feel more comfortable going out than hanging out at your place." He was ticked and replied "If I'd known you were gonna pull this, I wouldn't have just thrown on this T-shirt. I'm not exactly dressed to go anywhere. But, FINE." Oooohkay. So we ended up at a bar around the corner. I came back from a trip to the main bar to find a girl sitting on my stool talking to my date, my coat in a puddle of beer on the floor. He claimed she had hurt her foot and just needed to sit down for a second, but she clearly didn't know he was with someone and apologized as she got up and left. Hmmmm. The conversation was awkward, and he managed to bring up his ex-girlfriend repeatedly, but he made a point of taking my hand and saying "I would NOT be here with you if she were at all still in the picture." Shortly thereafter, he said he wanted to call it a night. I drove him home. He asked if I would like to see his apt. I love to see where people live, and I did want to use his restroom, so I said, "Ok, but only for a minute." He gave me the tour of his huge apt, making sure to point out that many of the furnishings belonged to his ex. "That shower curtain with the ducks was hers. I just haven't gotten a new one yet." Then he pointed out that the bathroom was right next to the living room, so "I'll be able to hear everything." When I emerged from the bathroom, he handed me a fresh beer and insisted I sit and listen while he played Dave Matthews Band tunes on his guitar. I kept my coat on and sat patiently through his rendition of "Crash Into Me", then I said I really had to be going. He said he'd walk me to my car, but he had to "take a leak" first. While he was in the bathroom, his phone rang and the machine picked up. A screeching harpy was on the other end, yelling "It's me! I know you're probably f4#%6 some b&@^%# right now, but you could at least pick up the %^$*& phone! Are you there?! PICK UP!" He raced out of the bathroom and grabbed the phone. While he was talking to her, I waved goodbye and started down the steps. He ran after me, still talking on his cordless phone, insisting I let him walk me to my car, parked about two blocks away. The whole way he continued to talk to her, but either lost his connection or hung up with her when we reached my car. I drove him back to his place and said "I hope you can work it out with her." He insisted that the phone call was from his sister, who was just drunk, and that he really wanted to see me again. I said "I don't think so." and drove away, leaving him on the sidewalk with a ringing phone in his hand.
I was back in Chicago and finally ready to date again. Brian was a drummer for another band that was playing at the same open mic as my band. I should have known when he first asked if I was a Latina and then asked if I had a fiery temper. I should have known when he invited me out to see The Wailers and kept asking, "Are you sure you can handle this?"
We met up at a Lincoln Park bar across the street from the Park West. At first, it was just a boring little date where you realize there is absolutely no spark between you and the guy, but we were then joined by his friend. He invited his friend along on the date - Some 40-something guy who kept referring to his kids and to a vacation he took in the Keys back in the 70's.
We were watching the show, and I decided to just stay put for the rest of the evening and drink my Jack &-Coke's (which I kept covered with my full palm). As I was watching the show, I smelled that someone in the area had broken out the pot (not really surprising) until I turned around, and there was my date, smoking and offering me a hit.
I don't mind a little weed, but not on the first date, man!
He got so high that he spent the night dancing by himself and drinking. His friend, though, stayed at our table, so he could try to play footsie with me.
When Brian tried to compliment me by telling why he talked to me at the open mic, he said, "You had that natural look, you know, like you looked natural, and you had the whole package!" (He said "whole package" as he cupped his hands to outline the shape of my body).
He offered me a ride home, even though he was so wasted, he could barely walk straight. I took the bus.
Hmmmm...
The more of these I read (my own included), I think that we, as a gender, would probably fare much better if we just laid off the booze (and apparently in some cases, weed) altogether on first dates...
I concur with MikeH -
One time I went out, had too much to drink, and brought a guy home.
He wouldn't leave the next morning/afternoon, and after that desperately tried to turn a one-night stand into a relationship.
So, no booze (for me) at all for the first few dates.
No booze on first few dates or around people I haven't known for very long.
It was a spur-of-the-moment, impulse Sunday second date.
We went to a cemetary.
He showed me his future burial site.
To be fair, it was a really nice cemetary.
I met someone online and we decided to go to a White Sox game for our first date during Labor Day weekend. During the 6th inning she gets up to go to the bathroom and never returns. I get a text message from her about an inning later saying that she had some "female trouble" and had blood all over her white pants and that she took a taxi home because she was embarrassed.
I never heard from her again after that night and to this day I wonder if she ditched me and made up an excuse or if she was telling me the truth. Either way, the date sucked balls after that happened and I didn't even bother staying for the fireworks.
The only thing that made me feel better last year about that date is that she was from NH and was a Red Sox fan and I got to go see the White Sox destroy the Red Sox in the playoffs.
It's a tie between:
A boy who asked me out in high school and picked me up to go to the movies in a monster truck with a big confederate flag on the back...
And a third or fourth date with this hot, smart girl. We went back to my place after a nice dinner were talking on the sofa. Things were looking promising: great chemistry, lots of heavy flirting and then it kind of tapered off. I couldn't figure out why. She left, I was disapointed and sat down on the sofa, where she had sat, to ponder what I might have said/done wrong. And then I saw, in what would have been directly in her line of sight, a condom wrapper on the otherwise immaculate floor. Nothing kills girl-lovin' like evidence a guy was there first. I kicked myself for a week after that.
Whew, I haven't been mentioned in one of these (yet).
Carlotta -- it's probably the non-disclosure agreements that you require your dates to sign in advance....
I've been holding out on this, trying to decide which of three dates was the worst.
About four years ago, I did my first bout of online dating, putting up an ad for about three weeks. On the first day I got flooded with responses from women (I'm male, now mid-30s), but one stood out; flirty, flattering, very attentive to the details of what I'd written. I replied; she turned out to be a UIC prof three years older than me. The exchanges got sexy and tense in a good way, and finally one weekday afternoon she asked me to come straight to her place after work, so I did.
She fixed us drinks and never stopped staring and smiling as we sat and chatted, and before long I leaned in to kiss her. She grabbed me and started growling about how she'd been waiting for me for so long, she wants me so bad, etc. She took my hand and led me to the bedroom. I'm thinking, Online dating is great! I'm set for life, man! So the deed was done extensively, and I was too glazed over with lust to really notice the weird things she started saying and doing (I'll spare you the psycho-Penthouse-Forum details of those).
But when it was over and we were collapsed and afterglowing (me on the bottom), the adoration on her face suddenly changed to a sort of disgruntled fear. I watched the transformation; it was amazing how it came out of nowhere while she stared into space, and then swiftly focused on me.
"Why did this happen, ****?" she demands of me. "I've always been the faithful one." Huh? I reply. Then she informs me of her live-in boyfriend (!!) of five years' standing (!!!) who happens to be away for a week (?!?!) and who has never said he loves her, and why the fuck hasn't he? What the fuck was wrong with men? Huh? Wha? I reply knowingly. Long long pause.
"You don't cross country ski, right?" she suddenly continues, as though this is a natural progression. Um, no, I admit. "WHY NOT?" Because...I don't want to? She doesn't like that answer. Long long pause. Her stare turns really angry. "Are you a LEO?"
Are you kidding? I say. Astrology? "Answer my fucking question, are you a Leo?" I don't answer; I'm trying to remember how I got here. Long long pause. She tosses her hair haughtily and says, "Well, I don't lie around doing nothing in the evenings. You have to go." I go.
She's contacted me a few times since then, first to say that her boyfriend dumped her on September 11th and did I want to meet for dinner? and most recently to propose that I come help her fix up her new house. Each time, she has completely forgotten the details of our one "date," except for the sexual ones.
This is the best thread ever. I never even imagined dates could be this bad.
I'm glad I've never been on one that was so bad it was worth mentioning here.
This isn't a bad date I've been on, but one I've witnessed:
My girlfriend and I went ice skating at Millenium Park a month ago and there was long line to rent skates. In front of us, there was a couple who were obviously on their first date. The guy literally talked for an hour straight while standing in line. Every once-in-a-while he would ask her something like "What do you do again?" and "What kind of music do you like?" and as soon as she would start to answer he would cut her off and go on about himself. My girlfriend and I could tell that this girl was more than annoyed. After we got on the ice, I saw the girl falling about every 3 seconds with this absolutely miserable look on her face. I learned a valuable lesson after that, even though it seems romantic, never take a girl ice skating on a first date.
My worst date was a few years ago near the beginning of attending college. I knew this one girl in my dorm and her roommate was into me. So I was going to go out with her. She calls me one Friday night and asks if I'm busy, and so I think, what the hell, and say "Sure, want to go play some pool?" The response was, "Oh, sure...I'm not that good at pool, but I'm up for anything."
Uhhh, okay. So I meet up with her and walk over to the union to get a table. We start playing, and during the game, she starts getting friendly.
"I walked by your room the other day and you didn't have a shirt on." (I used to sit around in my room shirtless.)
"Uh huh..."
"Yeah, I wanted to shout 'Wooo, sexy!', but I didn't."
"Hehehe...yeah, well that's not true though."
"Oh, I beg to differ."
She then proceeded to smack my ass a few times while I was playing pool, and eventually we left and went back to my dorm, at about 10pm. I turned on the TV and we sat down on the futon, purposely at opposite ends since I was already freaked out a bit. In about 10 seconds she had just scooted over and entirely closed the gap between us, and then gave me a huge bear hug (this girl was also taller than me and I'm 6'0", and also a bit bigger). I'm sitting there staring at the screen, and she goes "You want a massage?" Not knowing what to do, I say yes, and she starts rubbing me all over my chest and back and stuff. I was thinking, "Crap...she's going to try and make out with me any second now." We're sitting back on the futon and she's just staring at me, and all of a sudden, my roommate walks in. "HEY, BUDDY!" I yelled, and got up and started screwing around with him. I was never so happy to see my roommate in my entire life, hahaha. Finally a while later she left and said "So, call me this weekend?" "Yeah, sure..." Never again did we speak.
I find this whole thread to be really fascinating. I love how for some people, a really bad date involves a harrowing, terrible experience, while for others, a really bad date is simply because they didn't get laid. It's a rather telling characteristic, frankly.
Posting anonymously is also a rather telling characteristic, frankly.
Not sure if this qualifies as a "date", but it was certainly awful, so here it is...One weeknight my friend and I put on our red sweaters and jeans and went to cheer on the Red Wings at the Gin Mill. We each struck up conversations with guys during the game, and afterward my new acquaintance, "Chad", who was in town for a week apt-hunting, bought us all a round of drinks. Then he suggested the four of us go to an Irish pub he liked for more drinks. Chad made quite a show of insisting on paying for everything--cab fare, cover charges, etc. Ah, so generous of him! Nice guy! My friend had driven to the Gin Mill and made a point of telling him that if we were all taking a cab to this pub, she wanted him to pay for our cab fare back to her car, or she wasn't interested in going. "No problem!" he insisted, and off we all went. After our first drink at the pub, Chad began insisting that I leave with him and go across the street to a tequila bar. I said I preferred to stay with my friend, and the guy she'd met, "Steve". He kept whining at me to go somewhere where we could be alone. He said he thought I could really be "my true self" if my friend wasn't around. This from some guy I'd known for 2 hours? I was liking him less as the night wore on, so I was not up for that, and refused from then on to let him buy me another drink. He ordered one for me anyway and it sat untouched, while he chided me that I didn't seem drunk at all. At one point as I sat next to him at a table with my leg crossed in his direction, he reached down and pulled off my shoe, telling me "I'm glad you have your toes painted. That says a lot about you." Eh. I grabbed my shoe back and scanned the room for my friend and Steve, but they were standing at the bar with their backs to me. Then, putting aside any pretense of being a decent, genial fellow, Chad began to bargain with me for sex. He slurred "Come OOOON. How much money is it gonna take to get you back in my hotel room?" and waved a wad of bills drunkenly in my face. I asked "Did you think I was a hooker this whole time? Is THAT what your problem is?" He backtracked, saying he just liked me and wanted to "make the most of our time together." I told him it wasn't happening, and that he was working my very last nerve. He stood up, shouted "If you don't wanna f-- me, then f-- YOU!" and stormed out of the bar.
I was hanging out with a girl whom I knew from a while back. It was nice catching up and I felt comfortable around her.
We met some friends out for dinner one night. Then we headed to a bar to hang out for a while. I notice that as the night goes on, she's less and less interested in what I have to say, and she's hardly talking at all anyways.
She ends up hanging out with my room mate and his buddies - so I play it cool and hang out with some other friends who show up. It's getting late and I've already written her off - she finally comes back over to catch up.
Me: "Hey, I thought we clicked and now it's as if you changed your mind.. and that's ok. But I like you. Umm, what's the deal? Because I'm not feeling it now."
Her: "...[cricket sounds]..."
Me: "So you're taking off?"
Her: "...[more crickets]..."
Me: "I'm going to stay here then. I'll see you around."
Her: "...[said crickets]..."
Later I find out that she has a thing for my room mate. And that's ok - just wish she could have been [just a little bit] more upfront with me. She flaked on him a few weeks later. Go figure. What a train wreck.
I've had a few bad dates, but this was hands-down the worst. I met a girl a few years ago at a show, and we went on a couple of nice, relatively low-key dates. She tells me that we should go see "Tsar", this band that she had seen open for Duran Duran. Coincidentally enough, Tsar was coming around again and opening for my friend's band at the Metro. So we figured it'd be a perfect show to go to.
We get to the Metro and see a bit of Tsar, and they're okay. The girl then proceeds to get pretty drunk over a couple of MGDs. Tsar's set ends, and the next band starts setting up. At this point, I notice my friend in the crowd, and ask my date if she wants to go say "hi" and meet him.
She tells me "Not really. Go talk to him yourself."
I'm a little unnerved by this, but I say "ok", ask her if she needs anything, and go talk to my friend. As I'm talking to him, I notice that the singer from Tsar is standing behind me. I ask him if he wouldn't mind meeting my date, as she really likes his band. He's really nice and agrees.
We both over to my date, who at this point, looks a little blitzed. I introduce the singer to my date, who then proceeds to ask him a bunch of questions about Duran Duran. The singer's really nice about it, and starts telling a story about Simon LeBon. My date interrupts his story a couple times, saying she's not interested (she prefers their bassist), and then cutting him off by saying "I don't care about your stupid story. Simon LeBon is a douchebag. Tell me a story about John Taylor!"
The Tsar singer says that he's never met him (I guess Mr. Taylor's not in Duran Duran anymore. I'm, at this point, learning more about Duran Duran than I ever wanted to know.) My date, who is now visibly drunk, starts berating the singer. "How can you not know him?! I don't understand! He does music and lives in L.A.! So do you!" The Tsar singer gets miffed and walks away. My date says something about his hair looking "queer" and turns to me.
The awkwardness is pretty palpable at this point, so I suggest we get close to the stage to see my friend's band. They come onstage and play a couple songs. My friend is introducing a new song she wrote, when my date yells, "Shut the fuck up and play!" My date then turns to my and smiles, saying "I hate it when bands talk between song. Shut the fuck up, y'know! This is a show, not your fucking therapy session!" Evidently, this was supposed to be a joke.
I look at her like she just kicked my dog.
My date realizes she made a bad move and apologizes, saying she's gonna go get me a beer. She's gone for a half-hour, and I decide to go look for her. I find her next to the bar, with two beers in her hand, chatting with the singer from Tsar. She sees me and loks frightened. She runs over to me and says "Sorry, he just cornered me!"
I say that it's no big thing, and we watch my friend play for another couple songs. My date then excuses herself to go to the bathroom and doesn't return. My friend's band gets offstage, and I start looking around for my date. I leave the Metro after 20 minutes of looking, and find her in the Raw Bar next door, hanging out with Tsar.
"Oh my God!" she says, "Is the concert over?"
I nod "yes" and she tells me to pull up a chair. She wants me to meet the band! So I tell her, "Look, this isn't gonna work out."
She gets really sad and hugs me. She tells me she's hugging me "heart on top of heart, like my Mom used to" whatever that means.
I proceed to go out that night with my friend, and we get good and drunk, swapping bad date stories.
wow. I´ll wager alot of the people getting slagged here got the worst of these dates. Jason is clearly hoto, and lots of others are simply relishing this whine-fest far too much. Gettin a little craigslisty though. Although the UIC prof one gave me a shudder, as did the iceskating. And redwings attire, worn at the likes of the gin mill invites the advances of those who dig that mode of getup, which you got.
So I just went out on this date to be able to say that I was moving on from my recent break-up and actually dating. Really, it was too soon to be dating again, which must be why I chose Maria Full of Grace, a film about a Colombian drug mule. Not exactly romantic, but to be fair, when Ray picked me up at my place, he was using a tall umbrella as a walking stick, a la Huggy Bear.
Throughout the date, he tried to impress me with the fact that he was 31 and older, more "experienced" (I was 23). The date was average and boring, as he went with over-the-top "get you into bed" compliments and about how much he loves movie production and that he is a 'film-maker'. The deal breaker was really when he couldn't handle his bottle of Coors Light and complained of dizziness, while I was already on my second Guinness. Weak.
When he tried to hold my hand and ask how the date would end, I told him it couldn't go anywhere because I had just ended a relationship and wasn't ready for anyone. That went over well enough, until, on the way to the train, he started yelling, "Yeah, but if I was a complete asshole, I bet you'd be all over me! Right?!"
2 months later, I saw him in an issue of TimeOut NY. I found out he was a pornographer under the alias "Stylz Haaz". The company was called "Elitrious Erotica", (Elitrious being his dead mother's middle name!) that allowed average couples to pay to be the stars of their own pornos.
I really missed the boat on that one!
p - "hoto"? What's that?
I think "p" is mad because he's the subject of one of these posts!
When I was 16, the new boy in my class, Marlos from Brazil, asked me out to a dance at his church. I should have known better, especially on a Sunday night. That night, when I answered the door, a short mustachioed man was at the door, and I told him he had the wrong apartment. Turns out, it was Marlos's little brother, a 14 year old with a mustache, because Marlos was too lazy to come to the door himself.
We got to the church and he leaves me with his mom, sister and grandmother to talk, because his father is the pastor at the church and they were preparing the Mass (wha?!). I had to sit for 30 minutes explaining my classes, my GPA and future plans to comlete strangers.
Then the Mass began. Marlos couldn't sit with me, because the service would be in Portuguese and he had to work as the interpreter. I sat alone, while my date's voice spoke solemnly through my earpiece about Armegeddon and how we are headed to Hell if we don't repent (it was a pre-Christmas mass).
Everyone proceeded to the rec hall to listen to the boombox and play basketball (this was the "dance" part). Marlos asked if I wanted a soda. I asked for a Sprite, and he pointed to the food cart and let me know it cost 50 cents. We hugged and he let me know I'd be driving home with his mom, siblings and grandparents.
leaving aside the blind date that gave me bruises (and not in a hot sexy way)...
College. Friday night. I'm out with some friends at a restaurant and we run into some people my friend knows from church-group (sign #1). This guy chats me up and asks for my number, ok. the time is 1 AM. He calls me less than eight hours later (sign #2), at 8:30 am on Saturday. I'm groggy, he's chatting, we agree that there are no good Italian restaurants in our town, and he offers to take me to one in the adjacent town THAT NIGHT (sign #3). My sleepy self is too out of it to make up plans, and plus he knows my friends, so I say ok. He comes to pick me up and I offer to drive (thinking I shouldn't go off in a car with a stranger). He wants to drive, because he just got his car detailed. Ok. His car turns out to be a shitty volvo with a cracked windshield. (sign #4). We chat on the drive out, and he keeps saying, "I went to the ballet once and I really liked it. But I'm not gay." (signs #5 -10). Did I mention he was ex-military? (sign #11). We drive out to the next town, and I say, 'oh, that's our exit!' He disagrees, he thinks the restaurant is in a different area. I've been there, he hasn't (sign #12) So when we get off at the next stop, I say, 'well it's that way, so you should turn left.' He turns right (sign # good thing I'm not hungry).
To save you the suspense, we do eventually turn around and get to the restaurant, where he chats up the waiter (sign # uh- what?). I go to the bathroom, learn to speak Italian, come back, interrupt to ask a question about the dessert menu, and they're still talking. At this point, I was just hoping that he got the kid's number, because what the hell. So we head back to the college town, where he wants to continue the date over coffee (me, in my head: 'you thought that went well?') but I beg off, citing that tomorrow, after all, was Sunday. (take that!)
He proceeds to call repeatedly, and when I can no longer avoid him, I up and tell him that I'm just not interested. He says, 'well, I commend you for your honesty.' like I deserve a medal. Honesty? You want honesty? You're gay. I don't date gay men. Go find someone who does!!
My myriad bad dates had driven me to join an online dating service, something I swore I'd never do. At first I was cautious, only meeting someone after a week or so of emailing/phone calls. When it became clear that that was no guarantee that I was actually getting to know a prospective date, and, worn out past the point of caring quite so much, I began to meet men in person shortly after our first emails were exchanged. Such was the case with "Luke." I liked his profile and his emails were hilarious, so we exchanged numbers. I could tell on the phone that night that he had a slight stutter, but it didn't matter to me. We made a date for the following night. It started off relatively well at a neighborhood bar--good conversation, although he did feel the need to disclose his doper past, and emphasized "I've done every drug in the book. Twice." We continued on to another bar, and, as it was my turn to buy the drinks, I went to the bar and he went out to the beer garden to try to find us a table. I made two laps around the crowded patio, beers in hand, before I spotted him sitting at a table full of his friends. He finally noticed me standing there and introduced me around, but did not get up until I handed his beer over to him and said "Well, I guess we should find ourselves a table or something. Nice meeting you all." We found a place to stand against a wall, and he began talking about how unattractive he was and his stutter. I said I thought he was just fine and we actually argued about it. Matters were not helped when I went to get us another round of drinks and a nice, cute guy tried to strike up a conversation with me just as Luke returned from the bathroom. I politely told the guy that I was on a date and he left, but Luke asked "Who the hell was that?" Soon the bar closed and he asked what I wanted to do next. It was pretty late and I reminded him that I was helping a friend move in the morning way out in the suburbs, so I wanted to end the date. He snorted "You need to work on your fake responses." I said "You need to work on your first date etiquette." and got out of there.
in highschool this guy asked me out on a date to see a movie. he showed up in a baseball cap and ripped jeans and we all sat in the front seat of his mom's old hooptie because the back seat was filled with junk. his mom shopped at the mall while we watched the movie, we even had to wait for 45 minutes for her to meet us back in the movie theater lobby. we didn't really hit it off, so i told him the next day that i didn't want to date him anymore. he called me constantly for about two weeks afterwards, crying, trying to convince me that we were meant to be. he even made a huge scene at a football game, bawling and crying and sending his friends to talk to me for him.
after reading all of these posts, i'm thankful that i've never really dated as an "adult", having met my husband when i was 19. we've never had a bad date.
My first boyfriend took me to Chuck E. Cheese after a winter formal because he worked there and could get free food.
First of all, Erica, the food may have been free--but it was also great. Second of all, lest you forget, I did spring for that game of ski-ball.
I have a total first non-date tomorrow with a girl I really like a lot, and y'all're makin' me way nervous. Stop.
My worst date was one of those high school dances. I don't remember which one. I fuckin' hated those things. No dancing was done by me, that's for damn sure. The girl I was pathetically (seriously) in love with had a boyfriend, but she asked me to take her superhot cousin. Being a complete tool, and wanting to show up with a superhot babe, I agreed.
And her superhot cousin would not shut up about Hanson. The band Hanson. She was like, their stalker or something. It was really weird. I tried to act interested, but come on, Hanson? This was prolly a couple years after Mmm Bop. Nobody liked Hanson. Except her. She kept sayin' how she and their mom are good buddies or something. And she sleeps on their lawn. I don't even remember the stories.
Fuckin' Hanson, man!
And I had to see the first girl kiss her boyfriend a lot. That sucked ass.
Dirtyguy...was this in Indiana???
Naw, Rockford. Is Hanson from Indiana? I guess then it wouldn't have been so awkward.
Ah, such fond memories of the guy who wanted to plan "a big surprise" for me on our first date. He didn't have a car, so he asked me to pick him up. Fine. Parking was a bear in his 'hood, so I searched for well over a half hour. Then I went inside, already more than a little annoyed. His dirty, cramped apartment was stuffed to the gills with Notre Dame paraphernalia -- right down to the Golden Domer futon that functioned as a couch. (And sported what appeared to be Golden Pee on one side.)
He asked me to sit down. Which I did, on the non-pee portion. And then he proceeded to stare at me, smiling more than small talking. After 20 minutes, he asked if he could join me on the futon. I asked him where, exactly, were we going for the night? At which point, he said, "Nowhere. Surprise!"
No surprise, I got the fuck out.
It was THE NIGHT of the day my girlfriend of three years and I broke up.
I ran into this girl I knew from college at the Bungalow -- she had blown me off a few times, so I politely said "Hello" and started speaking to her friend. We got along great: same travels, same music, interestes, etc. She was quite attractive, I was diggin' her. I think the feeling was mutual. We went to another place. Afterward, my buddy and I walk them to her car. I ask for her number, she says: "I can drive you home." Wow. This never happens to me (probably the whole 3 year thing).
We drop my buddy off at his car, and her girlfriend off, and we're on the way to my apartment. I have to urinate WAY BAD. I'm trying to contain it to the best of my ability, but IT HURTS. So we pull up in front of my building. I am trying to make the fastest "I like you a lot -- I definitely want to see you again -- but I gotta go" exit, and she leans into to kiss me. It was awesome, and I love it, but OH!! She asks if I want to come home with her, I say "Hell yeah! But one little thing, I really need to use my restroom." She laughs, I pee, come back outside. We go to her place. My ego is lovin' it, especially after feel sorry for myself all day. We fooled around, but no sex, because I psyche myself out until I feel comfortable.
Perhaps a week later, I meet her for sushi. She looks incredible, seriously, it was the first time I was out with somebody and thought, "I don't believe this girl is out with me." It goes ok, a little less intense, but still decent. We go back to her house, hang out for a bit, start fool around. I know I've already psyched myself out. No sex. We wake up in the morning, and I put my jeans on, and they're WET. Her f-cking pug had lifted his f-cking leg on my jeans!! And I have to go to work! She tries rinse it off, blow dries them, etc. No avail. I ended up leaving work early that day b/c I couldn't take it.
We hung out for maybe three more weeks (I suspect guilt or sympathy at work), had some terrible sex, then she just stopped responding. I don't blame her, in fact, she saved me from getting back together with the girlfriend, and the subsequent life of misery that would have entailed. I was too attached to realize it. I wish I could take her out again now that I'm right in the head.
I guess that's not a bad date story, so sorry, but it's my most interesting.
Can't decide between two first and last dates.
1. Blues guitarist took me to the symphony. He dressed in a black cape, top hat and vampire fangs. He passed out during the first movement and snored loudly. God only know what he was on.
2. Rich guy took me out to dinner at a very swank restaurant. He passed out, face down into his dinner plate. Found out later he had a problem with prescription painkillers.
It's not always the OTHER person who makes the date bad.
In my sophomore year, I went to a party thrown by a couple friends who were seniors. At their apartment, after a few drinks I meet an attractive young woman in the kitchen (of course). We banter in bad high-school French, and she invites me back to her place with her friend and date. (Score one for the skinny guy.) While friend and date wander off to another room in the large house (her folks were out of town for a week), I hang out with my recently acquired date in the basement family room. After a nice make-out session, she invites me to her sorority formal a week or two later. (I'm GDI, but happy to attend a good party.) After chatting with her during the week, I show up @ the hotel suite the night of the formal in suit with a fifth of Absolut, but no mixers. My date, her friend and the other dude are already there. In a clear sign of the lightweight that I was at the time, in my mind, the best choice of mixer is Orange Crush from the hallway vending machine. (Not that I couldn't drive to a nearby convenience store, mind you.) Anyway, I pour wickedly strong cocktails (which taste like nitro-Absolut Nyquil to me), and end up HAMMERED in no time. While the other couple head down to the dance, my date orders room service -- steak -- which I'm too f'ing drunk to even finish. We eventually make it down to the dance, I stumble through one or two songs, and end up sitting next to the den/house mother for at least half an hour trying to sober up. (Doesn't happen.)
At some point well past midnight, the dance is over and my date (she's put up with me this long?!?!) wants to go swimming. In spite of the fact the indoor pool is closed, we take the plunge without getting collared by the hotel staff and make it back to the room. Much to my chagrin, I pass out before any whoopy happens. The next morning, my date and I wake up head our separate ways, never to cross paths again.
After more than a decade of short-term relationships in Chicago, I'm in a multi-year relationship, pondering my future. Perhaps I'm still a bad date. But at least I don't get drunk on the first and second date EVERY time now.
I had a really bad dat from craigslist I responded to this guy's ad that was really cute,his profile seemed ok. Anyway I drove 45 minutes to his house as I find out later he has no car. Anyway I keep calling him because I can't find the house he seems fustrated because I keep calling him. Iater find out he has a prepaid cellphone. Anyway he decides we will go to this neighborhood bar he knows. We did not pay because he knows the people there. So we played a round of pool but then he leaves me standing near the dance floor around people i did not know. SO I begin to get angry, he come to talk to me so I ask do you drink he says yes if you want to buy me a drink I drink white wine. I get even more angry then he proceeds to ask me if I want to buy him dinner. At that point I had enough I leave the bar but I found he had left his bag in my car. So I call him and tell he to come get his shit. Well he comes out the bar yelling "that is what is wrong with you women you don't know how to treat a man" HUH!!!!!!
She's a drop dead beauty. I was surprised to get a date with her. After the first meeting, I thought she wasn't interested, so I started seeing some one else. She kept pursuing me until I told her I only wanted to be friends.
Months later I end up single again. A mutual friend presses me to ask this girl out again. She was nice and pretty, I didn't think she'd be interested but I gave it a shot. She said yes.
Three dates later and nothing. She asked me to take it slow with her, not rush into anything, and so I've been in it just to get to know her. We went out to a science exhibit last week; the only conversation she could hold was when she'd bring up the weather. She brought it up several times. I asked her questions, made jokes, told her pointless stories about myself just to break the silence -- nadda. She has the personality of a coat hanger, and is about as affectionate as an old time school marm. What a waste of a pretty face. The prettiest girl I've ever dated and I've dodged her twice now.
I went on a blind date freshman year of college with a guy that one of my good girlfriends set me up with. He was cute and seemed nice, albeit very nervous. We went out to dinner and then after that went back to his place to chit chat before we went to a party. We met my girlfriends at the house party and he proceeded to get so drunk he couldn't speak properly or walk. We brought him back to his place (one of my girlfriends and I holding him up) and put him to bed. His roommates were out and he was so drunk that I was worried something might happen to him (I hadn't really dealt with many idiotically drunk people before so it was scary) and so I decided to deny the ride my friends offered me in favor of making sure he didn't die. There was no other place to sleep except for his tiny twin bed or the floor, so I snagged a blanket and camped out on the carpet. I woke up about an hour later with massive neck pains so I decided to move onto the bed. Precariously on the edge of the bed, I felt a hand creep up to my stomach and the guy began to fondle me. I told him to quit it but he was so drunk that he couldn't understand me. I finally got him to stop saying ridiculous and vile things and he went to sleep. I didn't sleep for the entire night.
At about six o clock in the morning, as I was staring at the ceiling, I felt something warm and wet on my leg. I proceeded to jump out of the bed to find the guy wetting the bed in his sleep. Mortified, I went to the bathroom and wiped my leg off, went back to the room, and woke him up. I told him to go change and that I wanted to go home. Turns out, he was too drunk to drive still so I drove us back to my dorm room in awkward silence. Still being too drunk to drive, he slept on the couch only to be kicked out at around ten.
Needless to say, I never saw him again.
And, now I can have a good example of someone who is piss drunk.
dang. i dont have any as bad as some of these. haha, this one date though, if you can even call it a "date": breakfast for dinner at waffle house (he did pay though) and then a walk on the beach. at night... in january- COLD. he offered me his jacket, but i could tell it was a big imposition for him. put off by his obvious annoyance, i declined and shivered uncontrollably instead. after a little conversation, we sat on a picnic table watching the surf & he suggested that since it was so cold i should probably cuddle up to him, when he proceeded to ram his tongue down my throat over & over. needless to say, the long walk back to the car covered in sand was an uncomfortable one.
I can top them all. Now most people contract some form of food poisoning at least once a year. Most of the time the symptoms are mild, and can even be mistaken for a 24 hour flu bug. Other times, the symptoms are similar to one having a very bad case of the flu, but rarely do people ever need to go to the hospital for food poisoning.
Just by its nature, the probability of contracting food poisoning from fish is always higher than most other foods. This is why, based on personal experience, I recommend that no one ever engage in anal sex after your date ate a large fish dinner.
We hadnât been dating that long, only about a month. Even though we'd only been dating a short time, we were having sex since the second date, and it was the best, freakiest, porno-style sex of my life. Seriously, this was the kind of sex that every man, deep down, dreams about having at least once in his life. It was the kind of sex that I had wished for ever since my voice started changing. It was with this woman, and only with this woman, that I was ever addressed with the phrase, âUse your whole fist for Christâs sake.â
On one now infamous date night, we were enjoying a romantic dinner at an upscale seafood restaurant. Through the entire meal, however, sex was all that was on our minds. In retrospect, every date we ever went on seemed to just be a temporary diversion from the best part of the night, which involved animalistic insertions, feral lickings and brazen misuse of food products. We emptied wine bottle after wine bottle over the course of the dinner, and by the time the main course arrived, fish for her and lobster for me, she slipped off her shoes and casually masturbated me under the table with her stocking covered feet. Completely plastered and horny by the end of the meal, we decided to skip dessert in the restaurant because a much sweeter dessert âwas being prepared in her hot, wet crotch,â she said. I paid the bill and narrowly avoided getting a speeding ticket, not to mention a DUI, during the drive back to my place.
By the time we got into my apartment, we were tearing each otherâs clothes off. Sloppy in our drunkenness, we knocked over two lamps during our horny, groping journey into the bedroom. Once in the bed, she got down on all fours, arched her back, and presented her delicious ass to me. I grunted my approval while aiming my rock-hard cock missile at her hairy silo. When the head of my cock began to penetrate her lips, she stopped me.
âNo. In my ass,â she hissed at me, sounding both horny and angry at the same time.
âAre you sure,â I asked?
She giggled as she said, âIf I could handle last night. . .â
Oh yeah, I thought. Last nightâs adventure involved a clown mask, three packets of Pop Rocks, and a twenty-inch replica of the Eiffel Tower. What the hell was I thinking? Of course she could handle some anal-action. She reached between her legs and began lubing up her asshole with her own pussy juices. Where did I find this girl? I thought. I was in horn-dog heaven. Blessed. Not being an expert in anal intrusion, I slowly eased my way into her lovely stink-star. First the head, then a quarter of the shaft, and soon I was buried to the hilt between her ass-cheeks.
âGo slowly,â she said, half moaning, half panting in both pleasure and pain, I think. I did as she bid, and very slowly began pulling out, like a steam piston on an old locomotive beginning its first run in a century. Almost all the way out of her, but keeping the head firmly planted in her ass-iris, I slowly began inserting again.
âYeeeeees!â she moaned and began diddling her clit. Soon she said, âFaster.â So faster I went, the tempo increasing until the train was running at full speed, the piston pumping in and out so fast my cock became a complete blur, her hand rubbing her clit like she was trying to start a friction-fire in her pussy.
âGnnnnnnnah!â she screamed. Thinking she was close to orgasm, I pumped that ass even faster, faster than Amish meth-head churns butter.
âGnnnnnahstoooop,â she screamed, or something like this, because the noise in my head was drowning out the reality around me, for in my head I heard a steam locomotive, chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga-Woo-Woo! Barreling down the tracks, and somehow I pumped even faster.
âYES!â I screamed.
She started reaching behind her and flailing on the bed in what I thought was ecstasyâ
ââStop!â she screamed, able to finally get out the word I had mistaken for groans of ecstasy moments ago. She screamed this with such volume and guttural, primal force that it had the effect of pulling the emergency brake on a 100,000 pound locomotive running at full speed. The sex act squealed to a halt, and I pulled my cock out of her ass like the rip-cord on a parachute. Did someone order champagne? No, that popping noise was my cock coming out of her ass.
âArrrrrrgh!â She screamed, as I yanked my cock free. And then it happened.
Immediately after my cock popped out, I was sprayed from belly to thighs with watery, fish-smelling diarrhea.
âWhat theâ-?â I said, not able to get the word âfuckâ out of my mouth because of my shock at the brown funk lining my body. As she sprayed me, she seemed to be propelled forward by the force of the jet-propelled diarrhea, and she collapsed onto her stomach.
âOh. My. Fucking. God.â I murmured, completely shell-shocked. Everything was still. I could hear my wind-up alarm clock ticking on my dresser. I stared at my shit-covered body. I surveyed the room to see if there was any collateral damage. The trajectory of the diarrhea spray was similar to buck-shot in a sawed-off shotgun; it was everywhere. Unfortunately, during the sex act she had been facing the feet-side of the bed, which meant that the headboard, my bedside table and lamp had poop on them as well. Even my bedside clock had a few speckles staining its face. The bed sheets: Killed in Action. A total loss.
I looked at my date, lying there motionless. I called her name. No response. I called her name while shaking her a bit. Nothing. Fear shot through me, as I thought, âOh my god, what if sheâs dead?â But this fear quickly dissipated when I heard her snoring. She was passed out from the wine. I on the other hand was no longer blasted drunk, because the blast from her ass rendered me completely sober. This night was definitely going down in the (ahem) annals as the all time worst date of my life. In fact, I had to invent a new special category, âEven the Devil would feel sympathetic,â to describe this night.
I cleaned up. I cleaned her up. I cleaned the headboard, the dresser, the lamp and the clock. With some manipulation of her passed out body, I was able to wrangle the sheets from the bed and throw them down the garbage chute. By two in the morning, I found myself lying on my couch, drinking Jack Daniels from the bottle. I donât remember passing out myself, but I can say that unconsciousness didnât come soon enough.
âIt was food poisoning,â her voicemail message explained to me the next day. After some silence, she added, âThe fish.â More silence. âSorry.â She left this message the following day, around 2:00 p.m. I had slept until Noon, and, thank God, she was gone when I woke up. How do you face that? She never called me again. I never called her. I definitely learned two valuable lessons that night: 1) Never have anal sex after a sea food dinner. 2) Be careful what you wish for. Thereâs only one other experience in my life that entered into the âEven the Devil would feel sympatheticâ category, and frankly I donât know if Iâll ever be able to tell that story. Letâs just say that the morning after a great one-night-stand, the beautiful woman you banged the night before can certainly use your bathroom. . .but she shouldnât be more comfortable standing up while she pees.
That was a the most embarrassing date.
I met this girl online and decided to give it a try. Our first date we went paint balling and had an OK time, but it was a little awkward since she had a hard time talking to me. She asked me to go to the movies with her later and I agreed. we met at a mall since I didn't know the area and she wanted to drive. I met her there and found out she brought her ugly friend, which was fine.
She drove like a maniac! I had never been so afraid to be in a car before. And on the drive her and her friend had a belching contest. I was sitting in the back seat wishing I had just insisted on following her so that I could take a wrong turn and never see her again, but I was now along for the whole ride.
Once we got to the theater she ordered three tickets and looked at me waiting for me to pay. I would expect to pay for my date and me, but not the ugly and disgusting friend. I paid and we went inside and found our seats. I tried to make light conversation while waiting for the movie to start, but I had a really hard time doing that since her friend and her were text messaging each other rather than talking.
During the movie she started to lean towards me more and more. I started to notice the strong smell of B.O. intensifying as she got closer. I couldn't help but lean the other way as much as I could to be able to breath.
The movie had to have been 3 hours long. I could not wait to get away from her.
After the movie we all got in her car and started to drive away. I was very silent during the drive back. I was so angry that I had agreed to let her drive and that this date was so horrible. She started to yell at me for being so quiet, and I had to hold my tongue to not say anything rude back to her. Once we got back to my car I almost jumped out of her car while it was still moving. I ran to my car and sped away, never talking to that disgusting ogre of a woman again.
@Wolf:
You probably shouldn't try to pass off a story that's been circulating around the Internet for at least 5 or 6 years as your own. Google to the rescue.
Less of a date and more of a complete horror story of high school romance...
Being a nerdy, brainy, and somewhat shy girl, I didn't start dating until Junior year of high school. I had plenty of offers, but was just too intimidated by guys and the whole dating thing to give it a try.
This didn't stop me from flirting all through high school with a guy a year ahead of me. We started dating (finally) in my Junior year. During my Senior year, I'd sit in film studies gushing over our great relationship to a classmate.
She, in turn, talked about how she hated her boyfriend, and had sex with him right before dumping him. And she felt kinda bad... Oh, no, not really.
A couple weeks later, she started sharing stories about a new love interest that had been "distracted," but noticed her when she spread her legs to reveal her crotchless panties. I hadn't been familiar with crotchless panties before that day, and was mildly horrified at her method of seduction.
After a while she told me she had initially gotten with the new boy just for the sex, but was beginning to actually like him. Good for her, good for him; whatever floats your boat.
Graduation came up and I had sent invite and called my graduated beau, to no avail. Come ceremony time, I was in line for the procession when he came walking in the door. I skipped out of line to give him a hug and tell him I was glad he had come; the hug he returned was remarkably stiff... Curious.
The easy classmate I discussed earlier ran up to my high school sweetheart and gave him a sloppy, tongues-everywhere, twist-your-stomach, HELLO-your-parents-are-watching kiss. He gave me a small shrug, traipsing off after her like a puppy.
The entire time we shared relationship stories, we were talking about the same guy; much to her knowledge.
Years later, I had a drunken encounter at a party with my "sweetheart." We made out, and it was worth it (he always was an amazing kisser), but when it came to him unzipping his pants, I laughed and told him, "Not after you were with that nasty, nasty h*e" and then proceeded to hop in a cab and snuggle into bed at home.
We had met over the internet, and despite his voice sounding a bit off, we seemed to get along great. I invited him to a business event of mine, so that after the event, either of us could ditch without it being awkward. I told him he didn't have to dress nicely, but that it was a big deal for me and my organization.
Not only did he come in late, partially disrupting the event but I noticed him sitting in the very back.
Not unusual, until I saw him knitting. He brought knitting on a first date, at an important event. Not only did I notice, but so did all of the professionals.
Oh and he sang Nickelback on the top of his lungs in his car, stating "Nickelback is the best band ever!"
Needles to say - it didn't work.
I was dating this guy who was a little rough around the edges, but seemed nice. One day, I introduced him to my friend and we all went out for drinks, then back to my house. He kept touching my friend (who had pretty much passed out at that point) and I told him to quit it. He didn't. I told him to get out of my house and he was like, "Hey, I'm a guy, I'm with two beautiful women, I should try it, right?" Wrong. I told him to leave and went to take a shower. When I went back to my room, he was still there - with a condom on his erect penis, trying to take off my friend's clothes as she tried to fend him off. I couldn't sleep in my own bed for a week after that.
I went on a date with an Asian girl I met online. She sent nice pictures and claimed to be 25 years old (I was 28). I took her to a nice restaurant, and we met there. Turns out she was lying about her age, the pictures were really old. She looked more like 45, now overweight, and she could barely speak English at all. I could just sit there trying to repeat simple English sentences over and over again until she finally gave up to understand with a smile revealing some pretty nasty teeth. I tried to hide in a happy place in my mind until the torture was over, and escaped quickly after. :(
He came up to me in the mall. I was defenceless: I had such a monster headache that I could barely see. Got his number, gave him a call, we had dinner.
I think the standout moments were him not knowing who Andy Warhol was, and the rhetorical questions.
The really great moment: "So, if you were an animal, what kind of animal do you think would best describe your personality?"
(He was a fox - cute, sneaky, arrogant. He didn't mention short, but that was applicable too).
Apparently I was a panther - mysterious, but with claws. Just because I told him his arts degree came from a truck.
Then he treid to kiss me, twice, talked about naked Twister and didn't understand the subtleties of body language.
Delightful.
He phoned me later and said "I don't think it'll work out long term."
I said "I completely agree," hung up, and deleted.
My freshman year of high school a boy I had an enormous crush on asked me to the homecoming dance. there was a quick dinner then we headed over to the dance.
a few hours in I started to feel sick so I nipped off to the ladies room where I proceeded to spew into the toilet for a quarter of an hour. I finally called my mother for a ride home.
as I was waiting outside for my mom I felt another visitation for my tummy monster.
a short aside: when it snows my high school spreads gravel to break up the ice rather than un-environmental salts. it had snowed a few days before but had melted (the gravel stayed)
as I was running in stilettos and a little red dress towards the school and the bathroom I stepped on a patch of gravel. my feet flew forward and i landed hard on my tush breaking my tail bone. I then leaned over and puked.
My date didn't even bother finding out where I had gone until her saw me limping at school the next Monday.
Mine was definitely my high school prom.First of all my date left me mid date for someone else in the limo. Then she embarrassed me even more with her disgusting behavior. It was awful
Came across this girl at a gig I was playing at, we hit off straight away and were chatting for a wee while (her bringing up the subject of her recent ex...should have seen that warning bell!) and she said I seemed like a nice guy and that she'd like to meet up some other time. Cool!
She suggested that since my bands' next gig was in her home town, we could hang out afterwards. I turned up, kept an eye out for her during the show with the intention of getting her a drink, only to find her all over aforementioned ex. Funk-a-doodle-doo.
Worst gig and worst potential date!
I met this girl online. We went out to dinner which was decent. Conversation was fairly easy and normal. Then we went back to her house to watch a movie. We were there for a few minutes before she got a phone call. She told me she had to meet up with one of her friends downtown (I didn't ask why) and decided to go along with her for the ride. Next thing I know, we're in the sketchiest part of Baltimore, and entering into a club/bar where the bartenders are behind plexiglass. She found her friend and another guy, and we then drove from the bar to some side street a few blocks away. There were cops at a nearbye intersection, so we pulled around the block. We waited in the car for at least 30 minutes while the one guy walked to meet up with someone to score some kind of drugs/pills (still not sure what they were). Then we had to drop him off at another rowhouse to make a delivery, before dropping him and the friend off back at the bar before getting to go back to her house where she proceeded to take her pills and pass out and I proceed to leave.
I was in 10th grade... first date ever, could only get better from here.
This harpy of a girl - obnoxious, loud, obvious - wouldn't stop bothering me and finally asked me out. I stupidly obliged.
Her father (who looked to be approximately 75 years old and probably related to the Cryptkeeper) picked me up and drove us to the movie theater. The girl and I saw "What Women Want," which is probably one of the worst movies ever made. The whole time she kept dropping her Chap Stick on the floor and I just looked at her until she slammed her shoulder into mine and frowned for the last third of the movie.
We get back into the car and she asks her nearly-infirm father, "Hey Dad, what does it mean when a girl drops her lip gloss on the ground? Huh? What does it mean?" then gives me an accusatory glare in the backseat. I said not a word on the way back and never struck up conversation with her ever again.
Perhaps somewhat consequently, I now date men =D
My wife and I got married in early Dec. For our honeymoon we went to Hawaii. After a beautiful morning and a very nice breakfast we went down to go see the ship. We were looking to see some things it was early so there wasn't anything going on. We were about to leave and then we looked up a show some planes coming in my wife remaked to me that it was an airshow! We stood there and watched for the show to begin.
We found out a few minutes it wasn't an airshow.
A few years ago, I met a very beautiful girl through my gf and she gave me a link to her blog. Time passes, I break up with my gf and I stumpled on her blog. I sent her an email, she replied, we exchanged a few more flirty emails. Then we sent some more emails, naughtier, sexier and then we agreed to meet... It was just obvious that we would end up having sex on our date...
A year passed since I met her and I haven't seen her since. I was worried that I might not recognize her. I only remembered her amazing green eyes. She arrived at my flat. It was her! I recognized her eyes! I actually recognized only her eyes as the rest of the body changed... a lot! She must have gained more than 30 kilos! [how can someone gain so much weight in just a year???]
I didn't say anything about it. I acted immediately and told her we were going out for a drink. I didn't want to stay home with her, maybe she would get ideas from our emails!
So, we went out, had a drink, talked socially, we had little fun and then we returned at my place. I parked in frond of the building, I told her I had to go to bed because I had to wake up early the next day (awful lie I used to wake up at 10), kissed her on the cheek and went home.
She wrote a post on her blog about her "amazing" date and I never talked to her again!
My sophomore year of high school, a few friends hooked me up with a senior who I kind of had a crush on for our semi-formal dance. Not only did he not dance with me the whole night, but afterward he ditched me saying his friend was having a "family emergency". It turned out that "friend" was his ex-girlfriend, who he asked to prom the same night.
A few years later, my brother saw him at a party, and he was really drunk. He started bragging to my bro that I was "obsessed" with him in high school and that I "so wanted him".
Dude, you look like Mickey Mouse, and I only liked you for a week... Jerk.
We met at a psychiatric hospital (no joke) i was in for deppression and at the time i dont know why he seemed pretty normal to me. We exchanged numbers and when i got out i excitedly called him to find out he had told his mom about me, and she was the one who answered the phone. A few weeks later we decided to go to the movies, we ended up watching some crappy Christmas movie. As expected he asked me to kiss him so i did and that was when it happened i suddenly felt his tongue in my cheek and half of my face was covered in saliva, then he tried to put his hand inside my pants. Needless to say, i never went out with him again, and never talked on the phone again, with him or his mother.
The worst date I have been on was my sophomore year in college. I was working as a server in a restaurant, and a busboy had asked me out. I was just getting over another co-worker, which he knew about, but I figured, he's nice enough, and very cute, so what the hey. Our first date was a lot of fun, we had gone out and had a great time together. So, I invited him
Andrew / February 15, 2006 11:07 AM
Blind-ish date with a woman who worked at a vendor to my company. We went to see "Something to Talk About," which looked like a romantic comedy but turned out to be about the messy break-up of a marriage (with some funny moments, but still). Not a great date flick.
There was a thunderstorm brewing as we left the theater, and she asked, in total seriousness, what thunder was. "Is it, like, angels stomping around?" She really didn't know.