We’ve had some hilarious entries for our Search for the Very Worst Date in America quest so far. We’re still accepting submissions so scribble down your oh-so-awful bad date story as per our guidelines and rules and email it to myveryworstdate@gmail.com. ASAP. You have until 12 p.m. EST on February 12, 2010 to throw your Very Worst Date into the ring for a chance at that 1K check! Date or no date, someone out there is going to have a very Happy Valentine’s Day.
I’d met this guy online during a time that I decided I would date around. We talked online and by phone for a few weeks before we decided to meet. He claimed he was some kind of promoter in the music industry and he drove from two hours away to meet me at my house. Since he’d driven so far, I did the rest of the driving. He wasn’t nearly as trim as he’d looked in his pictures and had on way too much jewelry (a pinky ring and some of those weird chain necklaces), and dressed like a wannabe pimp, but I hoped this wasn’t his usual getup and brushed it off. We went to one of the local favorites for hanging out and drinking. I tried to just enjoy a buzz so that it wouldn’t feel nearly so much like the horrible date that it was, but I think it was fairly clear to other people that it was going bad.
I’d text messaged one of my friends though before he and I had even left the house to COME HELP ME NOW. So she was hanging out with us, but the date itself was awkward, and when we got back to my house (where his car was) he was tired. He ended up sleeping over (no hint I dropped could get him to leave) because he “didn’t need to get up” early the next day. Since I didn’t want to be completely rude to a guy who’d driven two hours and bought me dinner and drinks, we hung out, playing with my dog and talking. He told me how it was amazing we’d gotten to this point, how he never thought we’d get here, and asked me what I thought about our future together. We’d known each other for maybe only a few weeks, and this was our first time meeting- how could I feel about it?
Somehow he ended up passing out on my bed. I couldn’t sleep and even woke him up once and took him outside to “look at the moon,” because I was trying to get him out. He just thought the moon was pretty and said so and then went back inside. At one point in the early morning I got up and drove a half an hour to meet a friend because I was so frustrated. I came back around 7 am and told him to leave because my dad would be up soon and be upset there was a guy at my house. He made fun of me for that, asking if I was 17 or something. I reminded him “No, I’m 21, but he doesn’t like guys being over at my house overnight.” He was dragging his feet and while I was brushing my teeth I snapped at him “GET UP!” All of this course was a lie, but it got him the hell out of my home. We never spoke again, though I did find some of his jewelry lying around my house.
I found an old high school friend on Facebook, who was single. My birthday was coming up and he flew out to celebrate with me. I invited him to stay at my house, like I would with any other old friend, and the arrangements were that he would take my room and I would sleep in my 17 year-old son’s room. The weekend was going well and we were really hitting it off. He wore a football championship ring, similar to a Super Bowl ring. But, he only went to community college and never even finished, and now is a prosthetic technician. So of course this ring, combined with his 6-foot, six-inch frame, attracted attention everywhere we went. He played on this all weekend.
We got home one night after drinking and one thing led to another and we had sex. Afterward, I left to go back to my son’s room. Everything was all good right? Wrong! My son found a condom wrapper in the trash and went nuts, screaming and telling everyone in my family that I had sex. I was so embarrassed that I insisting on paying for a hotel for the remainder of his stay. As we continued our visit, I noticed more and more I was picking up the tab. Even for my own birthday dinner! When it was time to leave, he asked if I could pay for his baggage fee and if I had $20 so he could have money to eat at the airport. He insisted that when he got home, he was going to send me some money. Of course he didn’t.
B and I had been on two casual dates when I won concert tickets to see four bands from a local radio station. I planned to go with my best friend, but she had a family emergency the day before and couldn’t make it. I called B at the last minute and asked him if he’d like to drive the two hours to Columbia, MD with me to see the bands, all of whom he had expressed appreication for. He was in so I picked him up and everything was fine at first; he even slow-danced with me during the headlining act’s token love song. On the ride home I was feeling frisky, as was he, so we pulled off the side of the road and engaged in some non-platonic fun. Once back on the road, with about an hour and a half to go, I was feeling good and cheerfully tried to continue conversation. I asked him if he wanted to go to the beach sometime in the coming weeks and he responded, “I don’t think we should see each other again.” We rode the rest of the way home in complete silence.
I was a cashier at a hardware store while in college and worked with lots of men, so I learned how to tune them out, and make friends with the least offensive types. There was this big brother type who operated a successful hot dog stand in the parking lot of the hardware store and he kept talking about how his nephew would find me attractive. Finally, I met the nephew, who was tall, tanned and so handsome it was unreal. He eventually asked me out and we went to a nice dinner at a restaurant adjacent to a mall near his hometown. We held hands and began a conversation about beauty and how mean people appear ugly after their personality is revealed. He agreed with me. He hung on every word I said and I felt great.
We ended up taking our conversation to a coffee shop with an outdoor patio and I couldn’t wait for that goodnight kiss. Suddenly, a car pulled into the parking lot of the coffee shop, tires screeching. We ignored it and went about our business of flirty talk and affectionate leg rubbing under the table. A short man in his twenties came out and called out my date’s name.
“Do I know you buddy?” asked my date. The guy came up to him, and although looked like he was going to punch him, he did something else. Something I wont ever forget.
The man’s fingers, in a scooping motion, smeared something on my date’s upper lip, milillieters from his nose and started running to his car, yelling, “I just ‘effed Stacy, this is what she smells like right now.”
He drove off, and my mouth was open, horrified. People on the patio were laughing and some were screaming “ewwww!” I know that what the short man put on my date’s lip was the real deal because my date looked like he was going to vomit. He used the closest napkin to him and he couldn’t bear to look at me except to mumble “Crazy ex girlfriend.” The experience was so traumatizing that I didn’t even think to ask how this guy knew where we’d be. I only knew we wouldnt have a goodnight kiss and I definitely didn’t want to catch a whiff of Stacy. He dropped me off without a word and when we saw each other at his uncle’s stand we would both look away embarrassed.
When I was in grad school there was a creepy fellow grad student a few years ahead of me who kept asking me on date. I would always say no, but one time he asked if I wanted to go swing dancing with him. I thought it could be fun and maybe I would find him less creepy if I tried to get to know him better. When we got to the swing dancing place he proceeded to show me how to swing dance and I was actually starting to have a good time once I started to get the hang of it. It turned out he was a pretty good and I was actually starting to be mad at myself for not giving him a chance sooner. But at the end of a dance he said to me, “You’re not good enough of a dancer for me to dance with so I’m going to find someone else,” and left there in the middle of dance floor by myself! The worst part was he continued to ask me out on dates after that, but I didn’t feel bad saying no anymore.
For a brief time in my life, I was single and tired of dating within the same circle. I decided to use the internet and within about a week, had met someone who seemed OK. His picture was not terrible and he seemed reasonably funny and well-spoken, so we set up a date for sushi.
We met up at a place near his house and I sat down across from him, realizing that he was at least 20lbs heavier with a worse haircut. Also, he was from Newfoundland. I don’t want to insult anyone but the Newfoundland accent is not exactly what one would term romantic – he was nasally, he spoke really fast and for him, words like “car” had two syllables. But it was fine. We ordered food and the conversation was relatively OK and he seemed nice, was gentlemanly enough to pay and not make a deal and as we loitered outside, he suggested we go for a drink or two at a place right across the street. We got a table and sat down.
Somehow the conversation turned to his former life as a meth addicted street kid in Toronto. Kudos to him for being so candid but I was getting a little uncomfortable with the nature of the stories. Then the topic turned to his fervent love and support of the Conservative party of Canada and Stephen Harper. This is not really my viewpoint and I tried to steer away from politics. And then, then it turned to abortion. Everyone’s favourite first date topic. I graciously attempted to move away from this topic as he continued nodding his head and loudly telling me that he didn’t believe in abortion. I was shifted uncomfortably in my seat because I am definitely pro-choice and leftist but I was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt up until this point. He would not drop it even after I firmly said, “I am not comfortable talking about my politics at this point in time.”
Finally I just smiled and signalled the waitress for my cheque. I thanked him for the time but I had to get going because I had to be up for work tomorrow (I lied, but so did he with his picture). He walked me outside and smiled, said he had a nice time and and then leaned in for a kiss! I quickly turned my cheek and he kissed it and seeming confused. He asked when he could see me again and I said that I didn’t feel we were compatible and wished him the best of luck with his search.
Later, he e-mailed me and went on about what a great time he had on the date. I was a little shocked. He continued to e-mail me with chapters to his fantasy novel, which was extremely poorly written. He also included details about how he had been “published.” I sent him one last e-mail and blocked him and hope he got the clue, once and for all!
I’m not the sort of person who enjoys clubbing, but I decided to go to one in Atlanta to hang out with a friend of mine who I never get a chance to see. She brought a few friends with her, one of which was her father’s business partner’s son, C. After we left that club and visited a few other bars and lounges, my friend and her buddies decided to call it a night, all of them except C, who had been acting strangely all night. I was deemed the designated driver and was toting everyone around all night, so when they took a cab back to their cars, C said he’d accompany me home.
When we got back to my place, we sat on opposite ends of the couch while I smoked a bowl with him, debating on whether or not I wanted to pursue this opportunity for a one-night stand. I decided on “no” but as I got up to get my car keys to take him home, he asked, “Well, how do you feel about hooking up? Do you wanna try making out a little?” I admired his balls for asking this and went for it. Not only was he the worst kisser ever – one of those tongue-jabbers – but throughout the course of the evening, he proceeded to tell me that I was one of the only girls to ever make him wear protection, that he could see us getting married one day and that he was a very devout Christian (I’m Jewish).
I was completely turned off by the whole thing, dropped him off at MARTA at 4 a.m., and ignored his calls thereafter. I feared that this disaster of an evening would spur a string of bad dates to follow, but lucky for me, I went out with a great guy literally one week later and am still happily in love with him to this day.
P.S. Fast forward to about 9-10 months later, my girlfriend told me that C had knocked up some girl in Las Vegas (before he met me), and being a devout Christian, he married her and they are now living in California together. I was so thankful that I stuck to my guns and made him wrap it up.
Hello Dear Contributors, Commenters and Readers!
We have some exciting news for you! We are working with an Emmy-winning production company to develop TV shows based on our blogs, My Very Worst Date and My Very Worst Roommate. We couldn’t be more excited and wanted to let you know that we are calling for video submissions. These clips will be used in the development process of the show (pitching to networks for example), but will not be aired on TV at this time. If you are okay with it, we may post your video on our blogs (if you’re not okay with that just let us know).
We thank you so much for making this blog so fun to run and read and look forward to seeing you in our email inboxes soon!
INSTRUCTIONS:
1. Please email your submission via YouSendIt or other file sharing site if it’s too large to send regularly. Or you may post it to YouTube and send us the link. Please mark it so that only we may see it.
2. Aim to make your story around 90 seconds or less.
3. Sit right in front of the camera (head and shoulders is good) and tell the story as if you were telling your best friend.
4. Tell your Worst Date or Worst Roommate story as if it just happened or just go right into telling the story if it was years ago. There is no need to introduce your video or give your name.
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When I was 17, I met a guy online who seemed really cute. We met a couple times and went to the park and stuff, and he was very polite and sweet. He invited me to come to his parents house for dinner about a week later. I was sort of nervous but decided to give it a shot. That day I dressed conservatively and prepared myself to meet his folks. He came and picked me up and we drove out to his parents house together. When we arrived at his house, I was a little shocked as it was more of a rundown shack than a house. We got out of the car and went inside to greet everyone. His parents were there and so were his two sisters, both of which had a few young children in tow. His father then looked me up and down in a really sleezy manner. His mother asked me about myself and I told her I was in high school and about what my parents did for a living etc. Mid-sentence, she interrupts me to ask if I had any children yet. I told her I did not, and that I came from a very conservative family. She then went on to explain to me that I was really getting “past my prime” and better start “having kids with her son real soon.” I was horrified and completely uncomfortable. I excused myself to talk to their son in private, and insisted he take me home right away. He made up an excuse for his parents and I practically ran out the door. We got in the car and on the way home, I told him that I just couldn’t continue to see him anymore. He seemed surprised, as though his family was completely normal and that sealed the deal for me, I was done.
