Worst, most Awesome Date EVER.

In My Humble Opinion
1

:smack:

I once went on a blind date with a guy that lasted eight hours. He just wouldn’t leave, and I couldn’t think of a creative way to dump him after he followed me to help a friend move and then had us out for ice cream. This was a bad date, but it wasn’t awesome.

We all have those dates that we knew we shouldn’t have gone on simply because the chemistry was lacking or the guy had a cat we were allergic to–whatever. That’s not what I’m discussing here. What I want to know about is a dating experience so twisted, so stupidly insane, that it’s actually become a point of pride. Got any? Here’s my example:

I used to live in California, and I decided that I needed to date more, so I accepted an offer for a night out with this kid Craig. Craig was pale, short, thin, a Cure fan, overall emo but still a pretty soft-spoken guy. He also wore black and grey exclusively even in the middle of summer, and wore what he called “mahs-CAAAA-rah.” He was going to come by my house and pick me up at midnight. My spider-sense should have tingled at this point, but it didn’t.

He arrived in a puff of smoke (if I remember correctly) and was led directly into my bathroom where I was still getting ready, and proceeded to help me do my makeup. When this was done, he led me out into the night and handed me graciously into his spackle-grey 70’s VW beetle, warning me that his brakes were not as reliable as they could be, and we would not drive to the park so much as drift.

As we rolled up to a stop sign and both of us helped stop the car Flintstone-style, he told me where we were headed: The Circus. I was thrilled until I realized the circus had shut down hours ago, and was even less thrilled when he dragged me through an opening in the fence and the cop who shone the light in our eyes threatened to make our overnight arrangements for us should we not get lost. At this point, Craig decided it was best to take me home. To HIS house.

As I settled on the futon to listen to music, Craig tried to entice me to look at the basement he had discovered under his house, some sort of Underground Railroad stop (yeah, I know) and would I consider tying myself up and taking pictures of myself toplees down there? Tasteful photos, of course. I declined, and strangely enough, felt comfortable enough to fall asleep next to his cat, What. He enever even tried to kiss me.

The next morning, I had breakfast with his entire family. Craig, like his dad, was a postal office employee. It was the sunniest, most cheerful kitchen ever.

I could kind of tell why Craig was the way he was.
Can any of you top that?

2

I clicked on tasteful thinking it was a link, damn you.

My worst date isn’t as bad as yours.

First and only date: She wanted to see a shitty movie (Far and Away) and went bloody mental when someone made a noise while eating. Now I’ll tell folk to shut the fuck up if they talk while the movie is on, but she ran over to a couple of teenagers, threw their food all over the place, screamed at them and threatened to kick their heads in. That was fun.

She was nice as pie after that. Until, on the way home, she saw an Asian couple. Then she went off on a profanity-laden racist tirade. A BNP member would have been shocked by the ferocity of the damn thing.

Didn’t bother going in for a coffee when I got her home.

3

Sure.

I drove out two hours to meet a girl I had chatted with online for 2-4 hours every night for about two and a half months. This was our second date, and on our first date she had given me my first kiss. And my first date for that matter. I’ve had NO experience with women at all before this, so it was pretty important to me. I had already spent a considerable amount of time and money on our plans for the evening but before those were kicked off we stopped by a diner of her choice for some pizza. As it turns out, some people the girl knew were there as we walked in hand in hand…her boyfriend’s friends.

It pretty much went down like the Hindenburg after that.

4

I don’t think I can, but…
My new boyfriend was organizing a music fest and asked if I’d like to spend the weekend hanging out with him while he worked it. He’d gotten a room at a nearby resort in the little moutain town it was being held at and I’d meet him at his music store early early Sat am to drive up with him. I arrive and he stuffs his mother in the car, quick intros, he’ll meet us up there, mom has directions. “Oh, so nice to meet you, Bobby’s driving all the equiptment up in the trailer, we do this every year, so good for the business, great to have your help.” It took an hour to get there and I probably spoke 2 words but she seemed so happy. I spent the day and late into the night signing in bands, handing out wristbands, listening to great music, talking to the vendors and seeing Bobby about 15 minutes total. I had a blast. He gathered me and mom up, I took us to the resort, dropped her at her room, thank god in another wing—she was no longer happy but I was too tired to care; what a great room! I still cherish the memory! In the am, we all had breakfast, mom wouldn’t speak or look at me and after a furiously whispered conversation between the two of them, I happily drove home alone. I’d had enough music fest anyway.

5

I don’t know if mine tops yours, but…

I was working as a legal secretary/office manager (okay, the only employee in a one-attorney law firm) to put myself through grad school. I was sitting at the front desk, working on some genetic biology homework when the guy walks through the door. He was one of my boss’s client’s sons.

He stares at me dumbfounded. He’s decent looking, so he probably isn’t looking at me. So I turn to see if there’s someone behind me. No one’s behind me. “You must be <weird guy>. Do you want some coffee?” I asked. He nodded, still staring at me. I glanced over my shoulder again. Maybe there’s something in my teeth.

So I get the coffee. “Cream or sugar?” He nods again. Damn that spinach I had for lunch! So I fix his coffee and hand it over. He tastes it. “Wow.” I smile. I’m glad I use good coffee for the clients - most of them really appreciate it. He gives me a really goofy smile. “Just. Wow.”

Finally, my boss comes out and weird guy goes in. Okay, so he’s not weird guy yet. He finally comes out and makes a beeline to me. “Will you go to lunch with me?” I blink, surprised. “Sure.” Good grief! Why did I say that? I shouldn’t go out with a client! “Tomorrow?” he asks. “Okay.” I put my foot in it already - no backing out now.

So we have a pleasant lunch the next day and he asks me out again. He was staring at me a lot during lunch and it was starting to creep me out. He called me that night and kept me on the phone for an hour, hanging up by saying, “God, I think I’m falling in love.” I laughed it off, but was starting to get a little uneasy now. I decided that I’d break it off the next day. What I’d really like to do is just call him back and tell him not to pick me up, but I don’t want to take the coward’s way out.

So, he picks me up for dinner the next evening. Again with the “Wow” and the staring. I mean, I had checked my teeth and all, and I’m not totally unfortunate looking (I had just been modeling wedding dresses as a second job at a show, so I still had a lot of makeup on, though, so most of my flaws were probably hidden), but I rarely strike men dumb. So we get in his mustang and I start on my spiel. He pats my hand and tells me to tell him over dinner and starts driving. We get to dinner and I tell him there. He proposes.

Wait, what? So I explain that he’s a wonderfully nice guy, but it’s probably not right for me to date a client. So he tells me to quit - he’ll put me through grad school. So, I say, “Ah, why don’t you drive me home? I think continuing this conversation is probably a bad idea. Me living with you is just not going to happen. I’m sorry.”

So we get in his mustang and he starts it up. “Overly, I really love you. Would you kiss me? I got this sense over dinner that you really wanted to kiss me.” “Ummm…no.” “Please? If you won’t marry me, will you at least kiss me?” “No.” Weird guy pouts. “Okay, but I know I’ll be hearing from you soon.” So he called me again and again for a couple of weeks and never got me (thank god for caller ID). He finally stopped because he moved back to New Mexico.

6

Okay, see, I would say yours tops mine, because, while I can tell that story for hours and bask in the sheer carnival-freak outlandishness of it, I’m pretty sure YOU narrowly avoided being stuffed into a freezer.

Props.

7

I had one date when I was about 17 where I picked the guy up at a cafe, we drove to another cafe, had cofee, awkwardly didn’t talk much, then we were driving to go to (I’m pretty sure) another coffehouse, but instead he leans over and pukes down the side of my car. I am like :confused: and he was apologetic, and we went to a gas station where he washed the side of my car with the windshield cleaner. We get back in the car, start driving and he immediately pukes down the side of my car. I said “Maybe I should drive you home.” He said “yeah”, I dropped him off, and we never saw each other again. It was onyl after that that I learned he was a bit of a heroin user. :rolleyes:

8

Flea, that made me lol a lot. It’s so awkward it’s kind of quaint.

My worst, most unbelievable date had to be when I was 18 (old enough to know better than this crap).

I had been forceably moved away from my beloved high-school town during my last summer before college, and I was astoundingly bored. So bored that I was in like yahoo chat and struck up a conversation with a guy in there who happened to be screaming Slipknot lyrics. Turns out he worked at Six Flags (somehow I must have thought this meant he liked fun) and lived fairly close.

So I drove an hour or so to this movie theater, where I saw him outside, decked in all black and chains a-hangin’, smoking a clove cigarette. He was also fat and had a piggy nose. Oh well, I thought, I’ll just hang out; I don’t have anything better to do. (My definition of “better” obviously needed working on.)

So I stayed and we watched “Hollow Man”, deftly avoiding his attempts at hand-holding. After the movie we agreed resoundingly that it sucked, which put me in a better mood, and then he mentioned weed, which I was rather fond of. So I rode with him to his friend’s apartment/cave, whereupon we smoked out of a 4-foot plastic bong while being assaulted by the entire Disturbed album. His friends, various young metalheads and pyromaniacs (who knew and loudly sang all of the lyrics), insulted me in some strange code language. I was very quiet.

I was too stoned to protest when he decided we were going to the local Pizza Hut, which was closed, to smoke more weed and play video games. I came to my senses as we got out of the car and told him to drive me back to the theater. As we left I heard his friends telling repeatedly to “knock on that door.” The hour-long drive was a thundering silence.

9

Once, I took out a girl who brought with her several notebooks of her poetry. When we sit down, she tells me she wants to read me some of her poetry. I think, “Cool! This must mean she likes me!”

It was about her first gangbang, which she described in graphic detail.

10

This is hilarious. This should be in a movie.

11

I think that *is * a movie. One that starts with really corny porn music. Bow-chic-a-wow wow. Ooooh, yeah.

I don’t know - you sound like you narrowly avoided being trapped in an S&M dungeon.

12

Mine’s not too bad.

I was chatting online with this girl for about 6 months. It was just friendly stuff. Well about the 6 month mark she says she broke up with her boyfriend and wanted to get away for awhile and that she had decided to come to San Diego, she lived in Boston, for a vacation. She said she wanted to just live on the beach for a week. So I helped her plan what hotel she was going to stay at. I found her one two feet from the beach. She said that would fine and asked if I would pick her up at the airport and then drop her off and I said sure.

Okay here comes the date part. I asked her if she wanted to see a play, Triple Espresso, because I had seen it just a few months earlier and found it hilarious. She said she would check it out on the internet and get back to me. She called back and said she would love to and that she would reimburse me for her ticket, $40, when we go to play.

So her plane arrives and I take her to the hotel and drop her off. She said she would call me soon about going to the play which was 3 days later. Well the night before the day of the play she calls and said she would take her rental car and meet me at the play. I said ok and we hung up.

I arrive at the play and wait. The play starts and she still had not shown up. So I could either watch the play alone or go home as once the doors closed I would not be let in. I decided to watch the play since I knew it would be funny and they served alcohol.

After the play was over and I got home I called the hotel to ask her what had happened and the hotel said she had checked out the day before. :confused: And I never heard from her again. The crappy part is the bitch stole my Thomas Bros guide to San Diego that I gave her to use, while she was visiting, since she got a rental car.

13

WOW, Tahssa, a con worthy of LOST!

14

While I haven’t been on a date as of yet, now I can just look at these posts and think “Well, at least I’m not THAT guy…” :stuck_out_tongue:

15

Not yet, anyway…

16

I also had a GREAT date when I was 17 (it was a very good year…) with this Navy guy. He was in his twenties and had his own place and his own car, so when he told me he was going to take me out somewhere nice that night, I got a bit dressed up. He drove us to Denny’s. I shit you not.

17

The most bizarre date I was ever on was extremely confusing. I was not, in fact, aware that it was a date until I was partway through it.

I can type like a demon, so during college I sometimes did typing for money. It wasn’t a ton of money, but a little bit extra was always welcome. When I was a freshman, I got a call from a grad student from an African country (sorry, can’t remember which one) who wanted me to type some large paper for him – he’d gotten my name from someone else. Excellent, thinks I – extra spending money. After a brief meeting in the library, he asks me to meet him again to go over the whole paper. It’ll be easiest, he thinks, to meet at his apartment. (Boy, was I naive or what?)

I get there, and he asks if I’d like a glass of wine. Still being underage, I think this is, like, the coolest thing ever, and accept. At this point, he asks what kind of car I drive. Weird, but whatever. I have a stripped little pickup. Not even power steering or brakes (I still miss that little baby). “Wow,” he says, “no power steering? You must be so strong!” Um, okay. And what am I studying? I tell him. And was I born in the US? Well, yes. And am I dating anyone?

By this point I am wising up a little, and say something along the lines of, “Well, sort of.” Which was an outright lie, by the way. “I think,” he says, “that you are a very interesting woman. Women are like eggs. They are so precious, and they must be handled delicately, and not carelessly, or they will break.” First of all, eggs could be had at the time for about 89 cents a dozen, so the analogy didn’t really hold up for me. And even then, as young and stupid as I was, I didn’t think of myself as particularly delicate.

The weirdness went on for about 45 minutes, with analogies I could not culturally understand and obscure compliments and comments on my strength, which I found to be somewhat at odds with the egg line. I desperately tried to swing the conversation back around to the typing job, but to no avail. Clearly, his mind was elsewhere.

Finally, when I got to the point of being downright rude, he said, “You misunderstand me! I want to get to know you, such a fascinating woman! I do not wish just to poke you!”

I exited speedily with as much grace as was possible, which wasn’t very much. It was a totally bizarre experience, and provided a great deal of entertainment for my roommate and me. To this day, we can crack each other up by saying, “No! I do not wish just to poke you!” And I’ve never since felt anyone to be so very attracted by my citizenship. :slight_smile:

18

Can’t type now, wife in room…

19

Wow, that would definitely make me want a second date.

Did you go for a second date?

20

Mine was kind of a not-date.

Some friends from university had a place together, and one of their roommates and I seemed to hit it off one night, so I asked if I could see her the next night (after her night class), to which she agreed.

I showed up at about 9:00 (her class ended at 9:15), and watched the World Series with my friends while we waited for her to come home.

By 11:30, the game was over, and I decided I’d been stood up, so I was going to leave. I literally opened the door on her trying to put the key in the lock.

She was completely plastered. And so was the guy she had brought home.

Her left eye drifted up to my face while the right concentrated on the getting the key into the now absent lock. After a couple of beats, her left eye informed her right that there was a strange man holding open the door, and why didn’t they look at the strange man together? I could literally see the progression on her face as such:

Man is holding door
Man is kinda cute
Man is kinda familiar
Man is Dante
Happy to see Dante
Dante? That reminds me…
Crap.
Think of excuse!
There am man behind me.
Give up.

I just kinda laughed, bade her goodnight and left. I already knew this was going to make a good story, so I wasn’t too mad.