Wow, apparently none of the girls I dated are on the SDMB. That’s a relief!
Probably the actually most dysfunctional date I ever had was with a girl (for later reference, lets call her Lisa) who tracked date expenses. Not to split it later or any kind of academic excercise, but to see if I’m spending enough money on her 
First date: was pretty basic meet, had a little dinner at a cafe, went to a movie, nice lil kiss goodbye and a promise to see each other again soon.
Second Date:
I was looking to score and told her to dress a little nicer, took her to a fairly nice restaraunt in town, a few drinks at an upscale bar a couple doors down, and she told me in no uncertain terms that it was past her bedtime and she didn’t want to go to bed alone. 
Third Date:
My plan…Applebees, a movie she wanted to see, and hopefully a repeat of date #2’s evening activities.
The actual event…less fun.
Picked her up, told her what I was thinking and she seemed to begrudgingly agree. I didn’t worry much, I thought she liked me and maybe she just had a hard day, I can work on whats bugging her at dinner. We sat down, we ordered, she kinda waffled about what to eat (which is weird for a Cute Lil 5’4" 180 pound thing, most of my dates were healthy eaters ).
We ordered, I asked how her day had been, etc, etc, things seemed ok.
Then it happens.
Lisa: “Is this going to be a typical night out for us?”
Me: “Well, probably. I’m sure we can do something nicer now and then as budget permits, maybe a little weekend trip here and there, that kinda stuff.”
Lisa: :rolleyes:
Me: “If you prefer to go other places I am not particularly attached to this place or anything”
Lisa: "Well our first date you spent $46, and that was ok for a first time not really knowing each other. Monday was wonderful, I felt like a princess and it made me so happy especially knowing you spent like $127 on me.
Me: :dubious:
Lisa: “And here we are tonight falling back to the first date thing. Isn’t it supposed to get better? Is this all I have to look forward to, $40-$50 nights out?”
Me: “Well that is realistic considering I make like $11/hr”
Lisa: “Well don’t expect me to be all that happy about seeing you if this is all I have to look forward to.”
Me: :mad: gets attention of waiter and ask to have meals packed to go.
Lisa: “What, were leaving? Why?”
Me: “I don’t think this is going to work”
Lisa: “Couldn’t tell me that before you fucked me though huh?”
Me: “I didn’t realize there was some kind of financial mark to meet for your happiness seeing me.”
Lisa: “Why not, I deserve it.”
Me: :rolleyes:
Lisa: “Are you saying I am not worth a $100 night out?”
Me: “No, you’re great, I just can’t afford that on any regular basis.”
Lisa: “Fine, take me home.”
Dropped her off, not another word from her, I got out to open the door for her and never made it, she hopped out and marched off to her apartment without looking back.
I didn’t know this at first, apparently with her there is a $100 minimum if I plan to get laid.
Crossed paths with her a few years later, she kinda looked me up and down and walked off, probably assessing me for capital gains.
Funny thing was, she worked as a shift supervisor for a fast food place, so its not like she was well and could treat herself to nice things with any frequency. She came from a very working class family so its not like she was somehow accustomed to nice things.
In retrospect I wish I had called her up later and offered her $100 cash to bring her a pizza and fuck her.
Hah! That is fucking priceless! It it was me, though, I would have told her that if she was that fucking shallow, then no, she wasn’t worth it.
Wow, what a bitch!
From the other side of that, I had a first date with a guy who told me all about how his dad sexually abused his sister for years and how their family fell apart when the truth came out. Including details on how he harassed and vandalized his dad’s home for years afterward! :eek:
Hmmm. The seminary student I was set up with by a friend. I figured he’d be way more religious than me, but didn’t necessarily consider that a deal-breaker at the time. What I didn’t expect was the interrogation he subjected me to where he wanted to know if I owned my mobile home (I did), whether I still owed money on my car (I did), whether I had gotten a good payraise with my recent anniversary at work (I had)–basically sizing me up to see if I could support him through seminary, I think.
And then he pissed me off by saying that AIDS was “God’s punishment for homosexuality”. By now I already knew he was a total fucking loser, but finished the date (a movie date) for the sake of courtesy.
And then he proceeded to call me for the next week, every night, every hour on the hour until I got hom from whereever I was, until I told him off.
Yeah, hey, Neil? If you’re out there somewhere? Fuck off.
In my one year plus in the dating world since the divorce I haven’t too many disasters. My worst date was one of those ones where it was nearly impossible to get her to talk. I’ve had plenty of dates where there was no chemistry but at least the conversation flowed for ninety minutes. I would ask her question after question and only get the briefest of answers and she didn’t ask me a thing. As we were finishing lunch, I finally got to a subject that interested her: NASCAR. Nothing wrong with that of course but it was her one and only interest. It was funny because the emails prior to the lunch flowed so well. I walked her back to her car to send her off and she was visibly hurt that I didn’t invite her back to my house.
Another one that was more funny than bad. She told me that she worked for a non-profit and had worked there for three years. She was very cagey about which non-profit it was when we talked on the phone which I put down to not wanting to tell a potential stalker where she worked. So we met for coffee and she started to tell me where she worked but she wanted to first assure me that she doesn’t agree with most of what they do so she has to keep her mouth shut most of the time and that I shouldn’t think poorly of her for working there and blah blah blah. I am now intrigued as hell. So what was this horrible place? The Anti-Defamation League.
I was stunned. She doesn’t agree with the organization whose goal is to stamp out anti-Semitism and all other forms of bigotry. I am Jewish by the way. We ended up in a two hour political debate which was not at all heated. As it turned out, most of her objections had to do with their pro-Israel stances which is fair enough but her general ignorance about the facts and history was staggering. What bugged me the most, and I didn’t tell her this, is why the hell did she work for a place that she considered to be evil? I understand that there are practical concerns such as one needs money to live. I didn’t expect her to quit that day but she worked there for years. There are dozens of non-profits in town. She should work for one that she doesn’t have to be embarrassed about.
Later on when I have more time I will tell you about the experience of a friend of mine. It was, by far, the worst date I have ever heard anyone describe where there wasn’t a physical assault involved.
Heh, that pretty much describes my worst date. It was with a woman I’d gone to high school with and called her several years later on a whim. We had four or five really good phone conversations and we decided to get together for a real date. She said she looked forward to it.
By the time we were at the restaraunt, I realized that she just wouldn’t talk. A complete 180 from our earilier conversations. Silence. I don’t know if she had a relative recently die, whether an old girl friend bad mouthed me, or what. There was no graceful way to just leave since we had just ordered dinner, so what did I do to try to fill the silence? I talked about myself. It was “me-me-me-me-me-me” for about 60 excruciating minutes. I just couldn’t stop myself. The entire time, in my mind I was thinking, “What’s the hell wrong with you?! Stop it!”
So not only was it a lousy date, I have the pyrrhic satisfaction of knowing it was probably her worst date, too. She probably still talks about it.
Now that I’m older and wiser, I’d have just said, “Listen, you don’t really seem to be in a date mood, and that’s cool. Why don’t we get together some other time?” And I would’ve taken her back home, no loss, no foul.
I recently wrote about one of my worst dates here. It was pretty darn bad (mostly on my part).
Wasn’t sure if I should link or cut and paste, but I had to share.
Most awkward: I had a first date with a very shy guy. We went to see a movie (I don’t remember which one) and it was sold out, so we decided to go to another one starting at the same time. It was 9 1/2 Weeks. It’s just not a good first date movie when you’re with a shy guy!
Most embarassing: After a few dates with a guy I really liked, we reached the point where I invited him in when he dropped me off. We went inside only to find that my dogs had gotten out of their crate, managed to open the cupboard where I keep the dog food and GORGED all evening. Not only was there dog food all over the floor where they’d stuffed themselves silly on a 35 lbs bag, there was dog vomit and dog shit all OVER!
Most insulting: I went out with a guy who ran into an old girlfriend at the restaurant. He spent most of the entire evening telling me how wonderful she was and how she’d broken his heart. Then he told me he intended to date women who weren’t as “special” as she was so he’d never get his heart broken again. I left after that.
I once had a date with a girl who insisted in bringing along a (far less attractive) friend as a chaperone.
But since my date was just over 19 and I was in my early '30s, I could not really call it unreasonable.
You’re describing an experience that would have given me a raging emotional hard-on – but, then, I have a savior complex.
Oh my, sooo many to choose from!
Being called a N*****-lover for accepting a compliment from a black cashier?
Winding up in the emergency room listening to my date barf from the morphine he got after his leg broke while we were roller skating?
The online date that followed me (w/o invitation) in his car 40 miles from where I thought I said goodbye to a pub where my friend’s band was playing?
The date’s fiancee (of whom I was ignorant) showing up to scream at him while we were at his apartment and he wouldn’t take me home b/c he wanted to stay there and fight w/ her?
Nah, the worst was the online date who agreed we had no chemistry, walked me to my car and asked for a hug. What could it hurt, right? He wrapped his hands around my ass before I got a grip on his shoulders and ground his pelvis into mine while I struggled against him. He laughed while I tried to fight and stomped on his feet. Broad daylight, busy retail parking lot; I can only assume he’s psychotic, the pig.
Well, I’ve never been attacked, thank heavens. My bad dates pretty much turn into decent stories to tell. I think I’ve related this one before.
I met him through an online service, and he had a bit of that teddy bear appeal to him. His emails were informative and thoughtful, and I was looking forward to meeting him. We met for lunch at a local pizza place.
I was starving because I hadn’t eaten breakfast, so as soon as we sat down, I explained this and asked him if it was okay if we ordered an appetizer. I asked him if he ever had hummus, which he hadn’t, but he was willing to try. Hummus shows up, before the waiter can set it down, date man points at it and says “hey, that looks like white poo.”
Strike #1
Strike #2 was him detailing all the political infighting at work where boss after boss had it in for him because he was so smart, and they were stupid and insecure. Injustice! Drama! Creepy obsession! I started looking for a nearby exit.
I managed to get him on to the subject of hobbies and mentioned that I enjoyed writing. He sighed. “Yeah, I wrote a screenplay once. It was really good. Then someone stole it out of my backpack, sold it to Hollywood, and they made a blockbuster movie out of it. That was in eighth grade, and I just haven’t had the heart to read it since then.”
I excused myself to the bathroom, called my brother and said “dude, you have GOT to get me out of here. I will bake you cookies. Just call back in three minutes, pretend to be my boss, and tell me I have to come in for work today.” Phoukabro negotiated for cupcakes, and we called it a deal.
The three minutes sitting back at the table, listening to Date Man describe all the times the world had chewed him up and spat him back out, but he wasn’t bitter, was like something out of a Hitchcock movie. Phoukabro called and in a very deadpan voice said, “yeah, phouka. Your boss. There’s been…some sort of…tragedy. Dead puppies. Very sad. Need you here.”
I got the hell out of Dodge and never heard from the guy again.
Meet a woman online, seems very smart and well-traveled. Looked very pretty in the photos on her profile. Talked with her frequently on the phone for a week before meeting her. The phone conversations, unfortunately, got me really hyped up about meeting her- I had broken up with my ex just a few months prior, and honestly I think I was still in the ‘rebound’ state of mind.
I picked her up, and immediately realized that she was not as attractive as she was in the photos. Also, she was heavy. In a previous relationship, I had thought that I didn’t have a problem dating heavy girls, that it just made me feel shallow to turn someone down just because they were fat. Later, I realized that I did have some standards, and I’d rather be thought of as shallow than be around someone I didn’t find attractive. We had a great conversation, which reminded me why I wanted to see her in the first place. However, the conversation drifted to cuddle parties. Yes, she was into cuddle parties. The concept of cuddle parties seriously squicks me out, but I kept my opinions to myself.
We kissed in the park. Her skin had this very strange, rough texture- I mean all over. She invited me over to her apartment that evening. Against all reason, I agreed. We made out for something like FIVE HOURS straight- I’m not bragging here; once things had gotten hot and heavy I did want them to get further- after all I got invited to her place, and we were already all over each other. Up until then I wasn’t expecting anything like that to happen, but after being invited to her apartment and having a good amount of time of heavy petting I kind of sorta assumed it would get there.
It didn’t. What did happen is she dry-humped my leg, and apparently had an orgasm from just that. After that, she lost interest in necking, and cooked me dinner. It was a nice dinner. She offered to let me stay the night…on the couch. We talked a bit the next morning, where she told me that unfortunately I had to leave early, because she had another date coming over in an hour :eek:
My hands-down worst ever date was my second date with my last girlfriend. We had a vaguely common interest in infusions and extracts, and so when I first arrived, she showed me all her lovely tinctures and encouraged me to sample a wormwood tincture, making some comparison with absinthe.
Now, I know a thing or two about a thing or two, so I was a bit hesitant. Wormwood is so-called because it has been used to forcibly evict parasites from the GI tract. The wormwood used in the preparation of absinthe is calcined first, and so this quality is destroyed.
I gently voiced my misgivings, and she reassured me that she took this tincture every day, no worries… no, not at all. Not wanting to be too argumentative on a second date, I complied, and told her it was lovely. (In a bitter-as-wormwood kind of way.)
Then we went out to a nice restaurant just down the road.
During that meal, I excused myself to use the bathroom five times. Explosive diarrhea, dontcha-know? I mean, we’re talking the kind of bathroom break that requires that you wipe the back of your legs afterwards, and check your clothes very carefully. I was mortified, but each time I went back to the table and we returned to the pro-forma date chatter, just as if she hadn’t poisoned me in the most embarrassing way imaginable. Nothing was said of the inordinate amount of time I was spending in the WC. No, that wouldn’t be genteel at all. The level of pretense was so high that I even kept loading my alimentary canal with more material to shot out of my anus at alarming velocity, just as if it wasn’t happening.
After the meal, we went back to her place, and I was sure that I was going to shit my pants before we got there. Every step was a round of Russian Roulette. We got in, and I bolted for the bathroom again. This was the most excruciating part because (while the restaurant bathroom was tucked away in a discreet corner) she had a studio apartment, and there was no way to keep the horrible sounds from reaching her ears.
“BRAAAAAP–BADDAP–SMACK! PHWOOOOOOOAAAAR! BLAT-BLAT-BLAT-BLLLLAAAAH!” For ten minutes or so.
Then, “Would you mind if I used your shower?”
Still, I rode it out, and after the storm, by god, we got down to it.
I think that’s a fair testament to the steely determination that we both had to get laid that night.
Me too.
She was a huge basketball fan. I scored tickets to the first game of the season at the university we attended at the time, which is and was easily one of the 10 best teams in the nation. Getting tickets for those games–especially if you’re completely broke like I was–isn’t much easier than overthrowing the federal government. I know she knew this because (1) she ain’t stupid, (2) she’d been following the team her entire life, and (3) she expressed massive gratitude in no uncertain terms when I called and asked her to the game, and again when I came by her dorm to pick her up, and again a couple more times on the way to the game. Once we got to the game, she spent the whole time either talking to me about frat boys or having full-on conversations with frat boys who she wouldn’t introduce me to. Every time we left our seats or headed back towards our seats, she had 3-5 conversations with other dudes. Totally innocent conversations, mind you, but I still wish I’d taken my roommate to the game instead.
Larry Mudd, that was fucking hilarious.
(I note that the OP asked about “car-crash” dates - I forgot to mention that I literally had a car crash date: when I was a teenager I took a girl for a very chaste night out, and when driving her home, hit a cyclist with my Mini, who went to hospital, and I ended up in shock, sobbing in a pub parking lot being comforted by the girl, at which point a load of drunks came out of the pub and picked my car up with us in it. I never saw her again, and she announced her lesbianism the next week. Second worst date.)
I had that happen once. She and her sister just kept chatting back and forth, leaving me feel like the fifth wheel. When the check for dinner came, they both expected me to pay for it, being the man and all.
Other worst dates, in a nutshell:
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Hit it off on the phone, but in person she was cold as ice; she barely spoke, and her eye contact was nonexistent. About 30 minutes in, she went to the bathroom, came out a few seconds later, and then her phone rang. “It’s the babysitter. My kid is acting up. I really have to go.” Yeah, right. She threw a twenty dollar bill on the table, got up, and left without even looking back.
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Not just once, but twice: “Can I ask you a question? Have you acknowledged the Christ Jesus as your personal lord and savior?” Both times, they gave me tracts, one forking over scary Chick comics! The Chick fan later knocked over a pot of coffee, spilling it into my lap.
There’s someone out there who probably thinks I was the worst date they ever had. For some reason, I was a nervous, anxious wreck. 
Hands down the last date with my ex-girlfriend, we had been going out for a month or so.
I told her to meet at a Shopping mall to talk (I was going to end our relationship in a civilized, adult manner) she arrives we head to the plaza and I order something to eat, she won´t have anything. She´s been colder than usual (boy is that an understatement!) and after 10 minutes a guy shows up, her look-at-me-I-have-a-gay-friend accesory, at that point they pretty much act as if I wasn´t there at all. I wait patiently for an opportunity to talk with her in private, but after she sends an SMS another friend of hers shows up; the three keep babbling and I keep waiting. They decide to walk around and see some shops…
After about two hours I´m quite fed up of all that evident evasion; at one point I turn around to see something on a stand and 10 seconds later they are gone, puff!, like that. The mall was nearly empty at that time so they must have run away and hid at the first opportunity, so much for having an adult conversation…
I called her up on her cell phone asking where they are and she first gives me wrong directions and then refuses to pick up the call.
The worst part was when she posted the fictionalized version of events on a web board we both frequented, it was as much a complete and throughly defamation as I have ever seen, I had never felt so affronted in my life. She topped it off with the statement that she had been seeing another guy for a couple weeks before that and that “it´s the last time I date a guy for lucre”.
I sincerely doubt it.
For my part I´m quite sure that it´s the last time I date a two faced, lieing, leeching, useless frigid bitch with a half cooked dominatrix penchant to boot.
What, me incensed?, noooooooo… 