"I would have to say the worst date I've ever had was with this guy... I forgot his name, but I remember nicknaming him 'firecrotch.'
I was doing the online dating thing simply because I wanted to meet a new breed of men. I met this one online, and our first date started off great. We went out for some dessert and talked a bit about our past relationships. After conversing for about three hours we decided to get dinner. It was rainy out, but we trekked there anyway. We sat down to have some hot wings and fries, and that's when I found out he was crazy. He started talking about his unprotected sex stints, a young woman he dated that cried after she undressed herself, and all night coke binges. Why did I agree to let him drive me home? I'm stupid and it was raining pretty hard. It was either a drive home with the guy I will never talk to again or a 45 minute train ride then another twenty minutes on the bus.
Unfortunately, his car was parked at his house. We walked for twenty minutes in the pouring rain, and once at his house I demanded I keep my jacket on and that we leave immediately. He wanted to me to see his new place, and I said he only had 3 minutes because I know what "a tour of the house" means. We started in the living room and I was impressed by his projection screen HD televison tuned to the Discovery Channel, and his pet ferrets. He slowly tried to lead me to the back of his apartment. Once in the hallway he opens his bedroom door and asked me if I wanted a tour of that all the while doing some creepy tongue gesture. I strongly declined, and we were out.
It didn't end there. After 30 minutes of driving, and hearing him talk about alleyways and how it would be great to pull into one, we finally arrived at my apartment... so I thought. He parked a block away and jumped on me, forcing his tongue into my mouth in a darting reptile motion. After I pushed him off and cursed him out for being disgusting, I hopped out of the car and walked home. As soon as I stepped into my apartment I got a text from him saying, "I really enjoyed this evening, let's meet again for coffee."
"When I was seventeen, there was this one boy who asked me out to go to the movies with him. I remember my mom and dad had met him once, somewhere, and thought of him as a nice and quiet boy.
"You ought to go with him," my mother said to me as she was mashing potatoes for dinner. "He seems so nice and you need to do something other than work."
She was right. At the ripe old age of seventeen, I was an attractive but boring teenager, not the usual party hopper or boy crazy girl that many associate with teenage girls. No... I was a serious high school graduate who discovered early on the beauty of making money by working. (We came from a lower middle class family with a father who ruled the wallet. No funny business went on with money; it wasn't purchased if it wasn't needed.)
So, I went against my own judgment and said yes, even though he wasn't my type: short, quiet and serious. His redeeming quality was that he was intelligent, which I value very much. I got ready for the date (though without much effort), putting on my jeans and a nice (but not too nice) casual top.
"Do you have money?" my mom asked, eyeing me curiously as I looked at my reflection in the mirror. "Mom!" I moaned as I fiddled with my eye make-up. "He is paying, not me." "Doesn't matter," she muttered as she searched through her purse. She stuck a ten dollar bill in my hand. "This is just in case you need it--mad money. Never go on a date without some mad money in your pocket. You never know if you need cab fare to get home..."
Made sense. So, I waited in the living room thinking of how I could be back at the mall at my job in the record store listening to my wonderful records and making money instead of waiting in my living room for the date who was nice, but not my type, to pick me up.
Not long after that, Bob arrived, and soon we were in his car headed for the movies. He had decided on a drive-in movie. And as luck would have it, there was a drive-in theater just five minutes away from my parents' house.
Soon we were set up and ready to watch the movie. I noticed as he was fidgeting with the stereo that the car had bucket seats in the front. Sport seats, separated by a stick shift. Great! No funny business, I thought. Too much hassle, and I wasn't in the mood to fight off this guy tonight. Just then I noticed a thermos on the floor on the car.
"You brought a thermos of coffee?" I asked. He smiled and said, "No, I brought this for you... I thought you might like it." I sat in disbelief as he twisted open the thermos bottle and poured me a lid full of pink fluid. "What the hell is that?" I asked while observing that it looked an awful lot like pepto-bismol.
"Pink squirrels!" he stated proudly as he handed me a lidful. "You might like it!" (For those of you who don't know, a pink squirrel is a mixed drink. I have no idea what it is made of, but will make you drunk--fast!)
"Well, what are you going to drink?" I asked him as I looked down at the lid filled with pink. "Oh, I am just going to go get a Coke. I don't feel like having anything to drink other than that." He said this as he placed his hand high on my thigh.
It was right then and there I knew what to do. "Oh. Okay. You go get your coke and I will wait for you to come back to get started." Bob, totally pleased that his plan to get me drunk was working so easily, hopped out of the car and headed to the concession stand. I waited till he was out of my sight, then I set the cup on the floor of the car, got my purse, and high tailed it out of there. As I walked, I planned my route effectively, since I didnt want him to find me.
I was lucky that my house was only a twenty minute walk away. I cut through back streets and walked quickly. I imagined that horny Bob would come back to the car and think I went to the bathroom. I wondered how long he would sit there before he figured out that something was wrong. Jerk!
I got home, walked in the door and my mom was shocked to see me. I handed her back her ten and told her that she was correct about the mad money, but there were no phones where I had been. After that, I never let my parents help decide who I should go out with, ever again."
"I was 18 years old, out of high school, and working part time at an Indoor Flea Market. I was just coming out of a bad break up with my boyfriend of five yrs. My girlfriend, whose name now escapes me, was a bar maid for a local bar. She invited me to come and hang out with her while she worked. She said she wanted to introduce me to a guy that hangs out there, who was really nice. I thought, Why not, what do I have to lose? Although I was still very depressed and broken hearted over losing my boyfriend.
I headed over to the bar and my girlfriend introduced me to this really nice guy named Benny. We talked, we laughed, we even danced to songs playing on the juke box.
Since my girfriend was the barmaid, she was giving me drinks on the house, so after a few hours, I must have had at least six beers. I was only five feet tall and 95 pounds, so this was enough to intoxicate the heck out of me. But that wasn't the problem.
Soon it was closing time and my girlfriend said, "Okay, one last drink on the house, whatever you want." I decided I wanted my favorite drink in the whole world, a White Russian, not realizing that the milk in it does not mix well with beer.
I sipped it down with such delight, enjoying every drop. All of a sudden, I stood up, and the walls started spinning. Then my stomach started turning. I went into the ladies' room and was so dizzy and nauseous that I sat in the corner of the bathroom and cried.
I remember hearing Benny knocking at the door to see if I was okay. I was too embarrassed to let him know that not only can I not handle my liquor, but I don't even know what drinks cannot be mixed. It didn't matter that I was sick as a dog and in dire need of help; I didn't want to look bad.
Finally, I managed to stand up and get a grip. I exited the bathroom and Benny offered to drive me home. I remember that ride home, the entire time thinking, I'm gonna throw up all over his car. I kept apologizing for getting sick on our first date. He was so nice, and so sweet; he was only concerned that I didn't feel good.
Well, the 20 minute car ride felt like a lifetime as I tried my best to keep my stomach from erupting. We arrived at my house and Benny gently grabbed my hand and kissed it. He offered to walk me to the door, but I said, "No, thanks." As soon as I got out of his car and he pulled away, I thought, Wow, what a wonderful guy... and then I threw up."
"I was at my boyfriend's house on our one-month anniversary and he was acting weird, even though we hadn't had a fight or anything. He wasn't talking to me, and I asked, "Are we still going to the movies?" and he was like, "I guess... whatever." I kept asking him what was the matter and he said, "Nothing."
On our way to the movies, we had to stop at his mother's job so he could ask her for money. He asked, "Mom, can I have $5.50?" which made it clear I was on my own for a ticket. When we got to the movies, he gave me the money and told me to buy his ticket while he went into the comic book store next door. I bought his and my own and then went to get him out of the store.
When we entered the theater, he sat two or three seats away from me. Throughout the entire movie, he didn't even look in my direction. He didn't say one word to me. He wouldn't even laugh at the funny parts of the movie, just sat there looking angry.
When the movie was over, he got up and started walking out without me. I followed him and when we got to the bus stop, he faced away from me with his arms crossed, not saying a word. After a few minutes, he just left.
When I got home, I called him and said we shouldn't see each other anymore, and he started crying."
"I don’t even remember where we met, but he was a fireman and thinking about how hot firemen are when wearing those pants and suspenders, I agreed to go out with him. Prior to the date, he told me that we were going to go to a really nice restaurant, so I put on my best. On the way to the restaurant, we pulled into a shopping center, and at first I thought he was going to buy a stick of gum or something. He parked the car and said, “We’re here.” His idea of a fancy restaurant was the Sizzler, all-you-can-eat. I ordered something from the board behind the cashier and declined the salad bar; I am not a fan of eating food that was sneezed on and touched by strangers. He, on the other hand, was a great fan of the salad bar experience. He filled his plate with anything and everything that was there. I think at one point he was chewing on a napkin that someone had left next to the chick peas. There was no conversation; he was totally concentrating on his food. Each time he put something in his mouth he would make this "ahem" noise, which sounded as if he had a dry throat and had swallowed some flies. I am an animal lover, but if I heard that noise come out of dog, I would have him put down.
The only conversation that took place was when he took a breather long enough to ask why I was not eating. I made up some excuse about not liking how my food came out and he flew off on how expensive my meal was. I offered to give him the $9.95 which included the meal, dessert and drink, but he told me that he was a gentleman and it would not be right for him to take it. He then turned his attention back to the grub on his plate and snorted it down. He finished eating, flicked his tongue out cleaning off every single speck of food particles left on and around his mouth, and we headed out of the restaurant. I told him that it was getting late and asked to be taken home. He asked if it would be alright if he picked up something from his apartment. I didn’t think anything of it so I agreed. When we got there, all he had in the living room was a chair and a folding snack tray. He went into the other room and then called me in, saying that he wanted to show me something. In the room was a king-size mattress sitting in a brass frame (well, he called it brass, but it looked more like tin that was painted). He was lying across the mattress and he told me that he got the bed in his divorce settlement. He also asked me to sit on the bed to see how it feels.
I told him that he should have gotten the living room set and asked to be taken home."