Worst Date Ever

10 03 2010

Today on MSNBC.com, there is a great slideshow of 22 of the Worst Dates Ever that women have submitted from around the country.  Here are a couple of my personal faves:

2. The Baby Talker

I once went on a date with a guy I met online. He looked normal enough and I agreed to go on a date with him. We met for drinks and things were really going well. He was handsome, charming, seemingly normal so I agreed to go on another date with him.

We head to a really nice steakhouse and after appetizers and his third martini, he starts to speak baby talk to me, as in “Would you wike a wittle kissy-wissy?” Our steaks arrive and he reached across the table to cut my meat for me!

I’m completely freaked out, decide I’m going to the bathroom, and he asks if I “need help wiping”. (I wish I was making this up.) I make it to the ladies room where my waitress walks in after me as I’m planning my escape route and she says, “Um, I was just listening in on your date. Your guy has put a pacifier on your plate. Do you need to get out the back?” She winds up sneaking me through the kitchen and I slipped her a $20 tip.

— Kristin, NY

3. Crisis of Confidence

Though we had really hit it off on the phone, when we met in person, my blind date looked nothing like he said he did and spent our entire date talking about how unattractive he is and how women constantly reject him, asking me if I thought he was ugly. I cut the date short, declined a second date, and thought I was in the clear when I didn’t hear from him for a couple of days. Then, I got an e-mail from him: not a single word, just a photo of his genitals.

— Diana, NJ

12.  Jekyll and Hyde

My friend Carrie met a guy named Robert on an online dating site, and the two went out on what started out as a normal, delightful date. Robert stretched the truth slightly, telling Carrie he lived on the Upper East Side. Turns out he lived in Harlem (at least another 1/2 hour from her place in New Jersey), so there was no way she was going to do the late night trip back to Hoboken. When they got to Robert’s apartment, they were having some wine and discussing regular topics while sitting on the couch, when suddenly Robert flipped out about his career. He got up, paced about the room, and muttered to himself about his career failures.
Carrie, creeped out by his sudden shift in behavior, decided to turn in for the night, went to bed, and pretended to sleep. Once Robert thought Carrie was asleep, he downed a handle of Jack Daniels, while his ranting grew more and more disturbing. Carrie tried to calm him down and urged him to come to bed and go to sleep, which he finally agreed to do. But he got up again and went back to his Jack Daniels, downing shots of it this time.

After things had finally quieted down, she noticed a strange sound coming from the corner of the bedroom. She got up and saw Robert in the corner of the room where all of her stuff was sitting on the floor, peeing on it. Finally, Carrie made her way home to Hoboken at 2 a.m., clutching her urine-stained belongings.

— Rich, NY

These dates are so bad that they make my “worst date ever” look like a cakewalk, but this is my blog, so I’m going to tell you my story anyway.

I met this guy, let’s call him “Steve,” at a happy hour back when I was working on Capitol Hill.  He was relatively good-looking and smart, and I was single, so we chatted each other up.  He told me he was from Los Angeles, so, just trying to make conversation, I told him I’d like to see what it was like to live in L.A. at some point in my life.  I started to realize something was a little off about him when he gently cupped my chin and said, “You’re too pretty for L.A.  L.A. would chew you up and spit you out.”  What? What does that even mean?

Anyway, despite all of my internal signals telling me that this guy was not super cool, I accepted his invitation to dinner that week.  He drove out to Arlington and parked outside my apartment building.  I met him downstairs, and for some reason I don’t remember, he suggested that I drive to dinner.

We get in the car, I pop in a Taj Mahal CD, and he immediately says, “Oh, Taj Mahal! My band used to play that song.”

“Oh yea?” I replied, thinking that it was cool that he was in a band.  Then he reached into my back seat, grabbed my tennis racket, and began strumming it like a guitar and singing along with the song.  Problem is, he was dead serious– like, DEAD SERIOUS about singing that song, like he was on American Idol and the tone of his voice meant the difference between a lifetime of success and a lifetime of crack addiction and homelessness.

I smiled, thinking he was probably kidding and would surely stop at some point, but he sang loudly and played guitar on my tennis racket all the way to the restaurant.

Maybe he’s just quirky, I thought to myself.  I shouldn’t write him off for this.

So we get to the restaurant, and he starts talking about himself.  He tells me that his family has like four vacation houses all over the world, and then tells me in detail about the architecture and design and location of each one.  He talks about his band some more, he tells me his undergraduate GPA and details his resumé, he tells me about all the girls at his job that “want” him, and on and on and on.  So far, I haven’t gotten one word in.  At one point, he gets a big piece of spinach wrapped around his tooth, and I briefly try to tell him, but then realize what a futile operation that would be because he is really, really disinterested in anything I have to say, even as it would pertain to him.

Here’s the worst part: we drive back to my apartment, and to both of our horror, his car has been towed.  He had parked in an illegal spot, directly in front of a sign that said “You Will Be Towed,” and then insisted on leaving his car there for God knows what reason.

So I drive him to the tow place.  We walk in, and the guy tells Steve it will be $100 to get his car back.  Then Steve turns to me and says, “You know, I really wish you had told me I couldn’t park down there.”

“You parked directly in front of a ‘You Will Be Towed’ sign, Steve,” I said.  “I’m not sure how I could have spelled it out for you further.”

“Well, regardless, I got towed from your apartment building, so I think it would be nice if you offered to pay for this,” he said.

I was fuming at this point.  I think my face was actually about to explode. But I just wanted to get rid of this guy and never hear from him again, so I stomped over to the ATM, took out a hundred dollars, and basically threw it at him.

Then, get this.  He says: “I hope this doesn’t ruin things between us, babe.”


Oh, man. What a comedian.

Worst. Date. Ever.

OK, your turn– ever been on a really terrible date?  I would so enjoy hearing about it.




16 responses

10 03 2010

The night went great until it didn’t. Ended up with her shoving people in the bar and getting kicked out because she got into a shouting match with the bouncer.

Heading down into the metro together she goes through the gate and drunkenly tries to get down to the train level by walking down the UP escalator. Not sure what was going through her mind but she probably didn’t realize it until after having already taken a few steps and so increased her pace. Upon reaching the bottom, SLIP. She falls flat on her face–and her shoes off her feet–both of which are now being carried by the escalator back up to the mezzanine level.

I retrieve her shoes and we’re now riding the metro back home. She apologizes for acting so crazy and says she really likes me. I’m too drunk to make good decisions myself so accept her apology and have over to my place.

Upon arriving at my place she limps to my bed and pulls out a bottle of Clonopin and proceeds to dump it out and line up a grid of 20 pills–5 up by 4 across. She starts explaining to me that she has insomnia and that her recommended dosage is 20mg of this stuff. For those who don’t know, .5mg of this prescription anti-anxiety medication is sufficient to knock anyone out. She takes 2 at a time.

Me: “Okay, I think it’s time for you to go now.”
Her: “No, I’m sleepy, I’m going to bed.”
Me: “No, you’re gonna have to leave my apartment.”
Her: “If you want me to leave, you’re going to have to drag me out.”
Me: “If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police.”

Upon hearing me say this, she calls the police herself and begins telling the dispatcher that I’ve coerced her into my apartment and am now holding her here against her will. She then says that I am threatening her with weapons and have illegal drugs. I also hear her say, “He’s a really nice guy,” when asked how we know each other.

“WTF?!” I immediately leave my apartment and call my lawyer for some quick advice. He says get your neighbors, get witnesses, and go outside. Leave the doors open and wait for the police to arrive.

Three cop cars pull up and three cops get out.
Me: “Thanks for coming. Will you please make her leave?”
Cop: “How do you know this girl?”
Me: “Jdate.”
Cop: “What’s that?”
Me: “ It’s an online dating web site. We met this past Saturday for the first time. This is our second date. She went crazy after having too much to drink. We haven’t even kissed yet.”
Cop: “Lead us inside.”

The cops follow me inside and I’m making grand pronounced gestures to show them that the doors are open and that she is in fact free to leave. They tell her to get off the phone.

Cop: “How much drinking have you done tonight?”
Her: “I don’t remember.”
Me: “A lot.”
Cop: “Have you done any drugs tonight?”
Her: “I don’t remember.”
Me: “She took 20 pills of Clonopin about 15 minutes ago.”
Cop: “You what? Are you trying to commit suicide? Let me see your prescription.” . “It says you’re only supposed to take one of these a day.
Cop: “You’ve taken far beyond your prescription. That’s drug abuse and you can be arrested for it.”

The cops arrest her.

They cuff her and put her in the back of the squad car.
She’s flipping out.
She lies down on her back and starts kicking at the door window with both her feet. The cops pull out zip strip riot cuffs and hog tie her ankles to her wrists.

Talk about dignity.

They drive off.

10 03 2010

I am dying. That is, by far, the best worst date story I’ve ever heard. Bravo.

10 03 2010

Both your stories are way worse than the MSNBC ones. Investigative journalism fail.

10 03 2010

Haha- I’m not sure that that MSNBC slideshow qualifies as “investigative journalism”…

10 03 2010

yes, the above poster has had an award winning bad date, but I think that one about the guy peeing on the girls stuff is also really scary and weird.

my bad dates dont involve mental illness and illegality, but they did involve a german particle physicist who had a very misleading picture of himself online, and when he came to dinner, he was wearing a red mock turtleneck and drawstring pants, had long stringy particle physicist hair in a pony tail, janky teeth, and proceeded to talk about string theory all night and had no sense of humor, not that germans are known for that kind of thing. the upside was I was very interested in my food.

the second was a guy I flirted with while driving in my car in the city in the snow and he was also driving. he was wearing sunglasses at night in a snow storm. that should have been a clue. we went out to dinner and midway through the very awkward night when it was painfully apparent I was running mental circles around him, he asked me in all seriousness: “what if they cooked a fish inside of a duck.” and really wanted an answer. i refused his calls after that night, and he kept calling and the last call he made, he left a voicemail telling me to call him back because he had something really important to ask me. I’ll bet he did.

10 03 2010

I don’t have any bad date stories b/c I am the bad date stories.

11 03 2010

one time, many years ago, i dipped a young lady in order to kiss her, right arm around her waist and left hand behind her back and head, her hair flowing past my supporting hand. it was a perfect dip. I was feeling pretty good about it for about two seconds and then realized i had a lit cigarette in my left hand and i had burnt up some of her hair.

11 03 2010

HAHAHA that’s pretty much the best thing I’ve ever heard.

10 03 2010

I LOVE that story. Laur. A classic. yes i will be telling it to my grand children

10 03 2010

#3 – the photo of the genitalia – that’s a total e-:the naked man”… genius!


11 03 2010

Notice how many “worst date ever” stories begin on-line???? HMMMM…

11 03 2010

So I met this guy Barry at a frat party in college. He said he wasn’t actually in a frat, he just crashed their parties to chase women. I thought that was charmingly honest and since he was also kinda cute, I said yes when he asked me to go out to dinner the next night. He picked me up on a motorcycle and took me to Burger King. We got our food, sat down at one of those little plastic tables and he whipped out a flask and spiked our cokes with bourbon. Then he downed the rest of the flask in one huge gulp and his burger in another. “Ready to roll?” he said, and started strapping his helmet on. I was a little tipsy, and I hopped on the back of his motorcycle like an idiot. We blew through the campus streets, nearly taking out a couple of pedestrians, and when I started to protest he ignored me and sped up. We turned left onto a highway and he opened it up. We were flying at a ridiculous speed and he was yelling “whoohoo” and taking his hands off the handlebars. I was screaming and begging him to let me get off, and finally, after I dug my fingers as hard as I could into his kidneys, he screeched on the brakes and left me on the side of the road. I walked 3 miles back to my dorm. Lesson learned. Adrenalin junkies are fun to watch on tv, not to date.

12 03 2010

HAHAHAHA, another classic! Burger King. How romantic.

20 03 2010

That was a seriously amazing Jdate. DR – your inner monologue upon meeting (and then talking yourself into dating) that loser mimics mine exactly. And I keep doing it. A frequent text I send to friends is … “Don’t know how I get myself into these situations…”

This isn’t sooo bad but it is recent. A couple weeks ago, I met up with a guy I had met as a friend of a friend. He’s a really nice guy but doesn’t quite “get it.” After we hang out, he “misses” the train home to Baltimore. I had figured out about 2 minutes into our date that this was never going anywhere but I let him stay on my couch. The next morning, he leaves. Uneventful. However, later in the day, I did find a long note saying, amongst other things, that he made himself eggs and toast. He also said my bread was getting moldy so I should put it in the fridge. In lieu of a signature, there was a drawing of his face.

21 03 2010

Haha- that’s interesting, I wonder what he was going for with that sketch? “Something to remember me by.”

21 03 2010

one can only assume…

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