Um…no. Please note that it was her first gangbang.
Years ago in college I met up with a group of friends at a bar. Someone brought along his friend, Joe, who was a freaking Adonis – 6’1" tall, athletic, and absolutely drop dead gorgeous. Somehow later that night Joe and I ended up making out in his car. To this day I have no recollection of flirting with him, speaking to him, or interacting with him at all inside the bar, which is a testament to my state of inebriation. But I do remember being in his car and french kissing him for the first time. He tasted menthol-y. I had never kissed a smoker before. Anyway, we ended up making out for hours in his car, until the bars closed. It was awesome.
We made plans to go to a Bengals game the following weekend. He asked me to pick him up since he lived so close to the stadium, and I agreed. Soon after getting off the highway, I realized that in order to get to his house, you had to drive through a really crappy part of town – Cincinnati’s version of South Central L.A. While creeping through the ghetto, white knuckled and trying not to give eye contact to anyone, it struck me how unchivalrous it was for him to not have mentioned that, oh by the way, you might want to PACK HEAT when you drive through this particular section.
But I made it intact and was still looking forwarding to seeing Joe again and meeting him sober for the first time. As I walked up to his door, a HUGE Doberman Pincher came barrelling out from the back yard, barking her head off at me and snarling. Now I’m a dog lover, have been my whole life, but this dog scared the shit out of me. And she clearly didn’t like me. Anyway, Joe came to the door and immediately introduced me to his “little girl Inge” who was still very loudly voicing her disapproval at his choice of dates. He invited me in and then insisted on bringing Inge inside to meet me properly. I’d had enough of Inge by then but demured because it was obvious that he was crazy about his dog. He dragged her in, all the while telling me that she REALLY was a good dog and he didn’t know why she was acting like this because she never had before and it’s odd that she’s still growling because she rarely ever growls and she loves women especially and Inge be a good girl! When the dog lunged at me with every intention of removing my hand, I told him in no uncertain terms that one of us was going to leave his house and he could pick which one.
We should have recognized the signs sent by the gods and ended the date right there, but stupidly we pressed on. We went to the game and then to a bar afterwards with my friends. I soon learned that although he was undoubtedly the most handsome man I’d ever dated, he was also profoundly dumb. If it didn’t have to do with sports, he didn’t know and didn’t care. “Politics? Oh, man, I don’t know nothing about that.” Hello, I’m Lisa and I’m a Political Science major."
Not only was he one dimensional, but he had no life plan. His parents owned a successful realty company but Joe had zero interest in being a realtor, nor did he have any interest in going to college. So what did he want to do with his life? “Play baseball.” Ooookay.
Happily he saw some friends from high school and he ended up getting a ride home from them. Alas, despite the incredible make-out session, which I still have fond memories of, there was clearly no love connection.
Although not my personal experience, the worst date I’ve ever heard of (that doesn’t end in some sort of assault) was one that my good friend was on a couple of years ago with an (allegedly single) French chef. The poor fellow got too drunk and passed out on her sofa, so she pulled a blanket over him & went to sleep - only to be woken up by the cops.
What happened was this: Mr. Chef woke up, got hot (or amourous) and took off all his clothes - and then went in search of the toilet. Being drunk, he opened the door to the apartment instead and wandered out - then managed to wander out of the front door of the building, which locked behind him. He pissed in the bushes and then fell asleep on the front doorstep, to be discovered by the superintendant - who, naturally allarmed at the sight of a naked guy sleeping there, called the cops.
Cops came, hauled him off, and then looked into her apartment to see if she was okay (waking her up). Next she hears, his wife shows up at the cop shop to bail him out.
Needless to say, there was no second date.
First tastless isn’t a link and now graphic isn’t one either.
I was the weird one.
I had, not so recently be dumped by my first ex-wife, (boy, this post sure isn’t making me look good is it) and some friends of mine decided to set me up with a date. They even doubled, which in the end made it worse.
Somehow, it was decided that they, the three of them, would come to my place and watch a movie. I would choose the movie as I’m the movie geek. Being very defensive I chose a movie that really wasn’t first date stuff, but I swear it is a good movie. It’s called The Year my Voice Broke. I’m the only one who liked it. Then the friends who’s bright idea this was dominated the conversation so me and my ‘date’ just sort of sat there.
I’m sure if she is a member here, she’ll post her side of the story soon.
So? Are you saying that if it was her 23rd you would have gone on a second date? 
I’m saying that I’m not particularly interested in dating a girl who’s into being done by 10 guys at once, especially not one who talks about it on the first date. Call me old fashioned.
OK, you’re old-fashioned. Still have her number by chance? 
Was he taking Viagra? Shouldn’t he have sought medical help after the first four hours?
That bitch! No San Diegan is complete without a Thomas Bros guide.
That’s a uniquely San Diegan story, too–a girl used you for travel advice! Yow!
It is a good movie, but no, that probably wasn’t a wise choice for a first date.
I like to think so. Mostly because if not, then it’s pretty damn sad.
Best date EVER! 
If you knew Craig… :rolleyes:
He would have never trapped me. He would have gently suggested, then soulfully mourned when I declined.
Dude, why didn’t he want to poke you? I would have totally been offended.
Heck, you get her number, I’ll round up another eight guys.
Not technically a date, but one time, when I was driving cross country, I was in the middle of nowhere, Oklahoma, getting gas, when a man with no teeth asked if I would like to go drink forties with him and his friends in a ditch near by. As tempting as that was, I was kind of in a hurry to get to Arizona, so I declined.
Oh, wait, I just remembered Eric. He took me to a god-awful diner somewhere in LA (being a Jersey Girl, I am quite the connoisseur of diners, and this one was just bad; plus, I think it gave me dysentery). Actually, no, I take that back. I took him to the diner because he never drove, even though he was in his late 20s living in the greater LA area; his mom drove him everywhere he needed. During the meal, he made disparaging remarks about some young Asian couples near by and his Latino neighbors who were “total welfare cheats,” but despite these warning signals, I still drove around with him afterwards, and we ended up at a park to talk. And by “talk” I mean he told me that he used to date Angelina Jolie (no, really, she thanks him in her Oscar acceptance speech! :rolleyes: ), and then went into graphic detail about the texture and consistency of her boobs (not as hard as you would think!), and how her evil manager insisted she dump him for Billy Bob Thorton because it was better for her career than dating some schlub from Alhambra. Then, he tried to fuck me. When I declined, he begged me to come home with him because his mom had put out a toothbrush for me, she was so excited that he had a date.
I wish I believed in a deity so I could thank him/her/it that even though I have been on very few dates, none of them were truly bad. My worst date was just boring–nothing like these.
snort I think he meant he did not wish only to poke me. A nicer sentiment, although the words themselves aren’t so flowery, are they?
You won’t have to, but I bet I can find seven!
I went on a first date at the age of maybe 17 with a guy I worked with that was older than me. We saw Eddie Murphy’s Raw. OMG. I was no innocent, but the stuff in that movie was just crawl under the steat uncomfortable.
Oh, and I went on one date with a guy who was just out of the miliary (I forget which branch). He took me to see Hamburger Hill. I made it through about ten minutes, then left because it was so freaking graphic and gross. He left after a while and offered to drive me home, except by “drive me home” he actually meant “tried to force himself on me.” It didn’t work, thankfully.
Um, did he mention attending Cal State LA? Cause I think I know this guy… :eek:
Don’t know if it will win, but this guy sure was a piece of work.
When I was in my first year of college, I met a guy on the school shuttle bus. I’ll call him L. He helped me find some building on campus, and we talked for a few minutes–we were both freshmen–and exchanged phone numbers. It was pretty common to exchange phone numbers as freshmen, so I thought nothing of it.
He called me the next day and we made plans to have lunch after my calculus class. I met up with him and we went to a pizza place, which actually wasn’t so bad. However, I noticed that something was definitely “off” about the guy. Nothing extreme, just a feeling that he was definitely not dating material. But on the walk home from the restaurant, things really started to get strange.
I thought I’d get rid of him nicely, but there was always a catch. He asked what I was doing next, because I should come hang out at his dorm. I told him I was busy with homework. It was a Friday afternoon, so he told me I should take a break. I told him I’d walk him to his dorm, which was on the way to his. When we got there, he told me he wanted to walk me to mine. I said OK, but then I was going home. What was I doing later? I was planning to go to a big campus event (so was everyone), but I was going with some friends. Could we meet up there? No, I was going with friends, and I wasn’t ditching them for a guy. What about tomorrow? Ad infinitum.
When we got to my dorm, he wanted to see the inside. it’s an old hotel, kind of an awesome building, so I couldn’t blame him. I told him my roommate was probably home and probably asleep. He told me he’d leave right away if she was. I let him come in. My roommate wasn’t home. I kept saying goodbye and telling him where the elevators were, but he didn’t pick up on it. I knew I needed to get him out, so I looked around frantically for a way to get us to leave the room. I decided to take the trash out, to the trash room.
Once we were in the trash room, I told him I’d see him later. He looked at me like I was killing him. “But…I have to tell you, I don’t know about you, but…I felt a *connection *between us. Don’t you feel it?” I was mortified for him. He was in love with me, and I was thoroughly unimpressed. I think he was just really dopey, not harmful or anything, but…God. So I did the only thing I could do–lied. I told him there was another guy in my life. OK, it was only a half-lie. But that got him out of there.
And then the fun really started.
An hour later, he called me, begging me to reconsider. I told him no.
Six months later, I had moved to a different dorm room down the hall, and I was taking a shower. I dried off and wrapped my towel around me. The door flew open…and it was L. No knock, no anything, and he was standing in my doorway, as surprised to see me as I was to see him. He thought I lived down the hall. It turned out that my roommate had invited him over–she had met him just that day. He had moved into our dorm after being kicked out of his for smoking pot, being naked in the hallways, and watching/using porn in the computer lab. In combination, sometimes.
A year later, I heard he’d been kicked out of university housing altogether and was living in a van.
A couple years later, he was arrested for streaking across campus (alone, during the day) and made to register as a sex offender. It was a big story all around campus.
So that was…my date with a registered sex offender.
Not that I remember, but I hope it is the same guy 'cause I don’t want to think about the possibility of there being two of him wandering around …