My Worst Date Ever Was a Total Nightmare — What’s Your Story?
“I have this rare, weird foot fungus.” That was once said to me on a date. He sure sounds like a winner, huh? I didn’t think so either. We have all had them, those dates that turn into nightmares. What has been your worst date?
It seems that going on a horrible first date is now the initiation into adulthood for us all.
I have been on more than my share. In fact, I have gone on so many frighteningly bad dates I am now a cautious to ever say yes to dinner and a show. Here are a couple of the worst I have ever barely lived through.
MY WORST DATE EVER
I went to a house party with a friend one night. Inside was packed to the brim with people I didn’t know, which already made me nervous because of their crazy behavior, so I hid outside. The backyard was dark so I could barely see the man I ended up talking to for a while. We had a pretty good conversation about soccer and music, but the most memorable thing about this guy was that he had the most amazing eyes I had ever seen. Staring into those blue beauties, I agreed to give him my number.
About two days later he called me to set a time and place for us to meet up. I remember so well how nervous I was walking into Friday’s. The butterflies in my stomach went absolutely insane when a sort of odd but kind of nice-looking guy approached me. The eyes were there, but the rest of him was not what I expected.
Before I had time to really figure out what was going on, he was hugging me. I almost suffocated from his bone-crushing and way-too-long of an embrace. But, I was committed now. There was nowhere to run, so I joined him in the booth.
I started to really analyze his appearance, my findings are the reason I will refer to him as “Square Head” for the rest of this story. That is right: His head squared off at the top and fell flat straight down to his neck all the way to the shoulders. When did I notice this? When he started acting like a total jerk to our waitress.
I cannot stand people who are rude to wait staff. First of all, they can spit in your food. I don;t want my burger with a side of loogie because you need to make yourself feel better by belittling others.
As the date continued, I made endless apologies to our waitress. In between my begging for my food to come out spit free, the craziest things purged from Square Head’s mouth. Things I hope no one else ever has to experience again.
Square Head: “I know a lot of people think I’m gay, but I am not. I promise. Yes, I do like to be my gay friend’s wing man from time to time, but it’s just for the drinks. I do also wear leather, skin tight, and leopard print pants, but I really just like the way my butt looks. That’s not weird right? I don’t know if I should be telling you all this now.”
No, you shouldn’t tell anyone these things on a first date. I was beginning to really get a weird feeling from this guy, so I sent an S.O.S. text message to my friend. She hit the road to walk in to Friday’s pretending she had come to eat. I was going to quickly invite her to eat with us instead of all by herself. Maybe she could save me from what ever was happening to me. His stories came flooding out, drowning any hope of mine to change the conversation. But, the worst was yet to come.
My friend showed up and sat next to me, while he moved to asking me about my exes. Who does that? On a first date you want to hear the dirt from my past relationships? I don’t know if I want you to know even my middle name, so I am not going to tell you about my personal stories. After all of the insane things that had been coming out of his mouth, who knew what he would do with any information I gave him?
Then I realized, he wasn’t asking me to really hear my answer. He just wanted to let a little more of his crazy out. Just in time, my friend arrived. Now the date had turned into a chance to collect stories for my friend and I to send into a sitcom for one of their skits.
Square Head: “I don’t care what my ex-girlfriend says, I am not impotent.”
Me: “Um, what?!”
My Friend: “Oh my! Please, continue!”
Square Head: “Just because she was such a b****, I couldn’t get it up. I went to the doctor, though. He said I am fine. Better than fine, I am perfect. Ready to make lots of babies.”
My Friend: “Really? Very ready for the baby making, huh? Don’t you think Nora would make a great mom?”
I stomped right down on my friend’s foot as hard as I could. How could she throw me under the bus?
Square Head: “I mean, I’d love to practice making babies with her, but you would have to leave.”
Me: “Oh no, she stays.”
My Friend: “If I leave, I can’t tell you about what I learned in my anthropology class.”
Square Head and I looked at her, both of us so puzzled. Where was this about to lead?
My Friend: “We learned about these tribes in Africa that cut the young men’s members to signal that they are now men. Maybe you should try to do that. Then, women couldn’t doubt your grand manhood ever again. And, if you couldn’t get the pants party going you could tell them it was because of a horrible accident.”
This, I thought, was the end. Square Head looked so concerned that my friend was implying she was going to harm his “manhood” that he fell silent until the check came. But, I had not heard the last from mister “I’m not impotent.”
As I walked my friend to her car, Square Head pulled me to the side. He tried to kiss me, but I was able to squirm away muttering something about having a terrible cold. Then, he (in the loudest whisper known to man) told me that he was, “Hung like a horse and would definitely be able to show you the best night of life, if you get rid of that weird friend of yours.”
I literally took off running. I have never seen him again, but I will every blue moon think about him. I cringed when he comes to mind because I imagine him in his skin tight pants, cosmo in hand, propositioning me to “make babies.”
Since then I have had plenty more unbelievable dates. I have had a man cry at the dinner table, tell me about his “rare, weird foot fungus,” ask me endless questions about owning a tank full of bass fish, tell me “when his band gets big,” he might have to have an open relationship with me if we are still dating, and even had one guy that farted through the entire movie he picked, that I hated.
I asked my friends if they had any dating battle scars from a horrible past, they all admitted they had. What is this? Why do we have to endure these crazy experiences? What have you lived through?
Help me collect comfort for the horrors I have seen, tell me about your worst first date. Hopefully we can all laugh about it later.