Editors note: On weekends I'm going to start reposting some of the classic bad dates from the past months, hope you enjoy this one.
In a moment of temporary insanity, I decided to join an online dating site. So this guy emails me, and boy, he was totally hot. Young, thick dirty-blond hair, buff...but that was a problem. He was young...like 10 years younger than me. Being a single mom, I'm particular about who I will date. It's not just me anymore, you know. I have to consider who it is I may potentially bring into my child's life. Anyway, he tells me that since he has a eight-year-old, he doesn't see the age difference being a problem. Okay, so we meet. Well, if he hadn't walked right up to me at the restaurant, I would not have recognized him. Yep, he was buff, all right, but his head was not in proportion to his body. It was TINY. The movie Beetlejuice came to mind, with the shrunken-head guys. His cheeks were sunken in. The thick dirty blond hair was actually thin, unkempt and sun-bleached white (I HATE that). No thick, kissable lips like in his picture; his mouth was a thin gash, and he had BRACES. I was still reelng from that shock, when, in the course of our conversation, he admitted that he'd lied about his age. He wasn't 27, he was my age. Anyway, I made it through lunch and mumbled something about possibly getting together over the weekend. Normally I'm really upfront about my feelings if I'm not interested, but I really was just speechless at the whole thing. Later, I emailed him (I know, lame) that I couldn't see him anymore because he had lied. So began his email campaign of totally dissing me, calling me every name in the book and insisting that he didn't lie to me, he just withheld the truth until we could meet in person. And even though I'd told him that I hadn't dated in a while, he kept saying I was trying to pin him as a liar just to cover the fact that I had "too many dates to handle." Whatever.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
The Stalker Guy
Editors Note: One of my favorite blogs is "OystersnBeer" by SadieLady. Go check it out. I thought I'd already stolen all of her bad date stories, but today found one that I'd apparently overlooked ...so I grabbed it, enjoy.
One Halloween, while out with some friends, I met a bartender dressed as a fireman. He had the hat and the red suspenders, over a bare chest of course. And probably some pants and boots too; I just remember the bare chest. Anyway, we flirted some, and when I finally went home that night I had given him my phone number. I ended up meeting him out for drinks one night soon after that. We talked, had a couple drinks; it was nice. Well the next day I received a huge bouquet of flowers from him. And while yes, it's always nice to receive flowers, sometimes it can also be a bit of a bad feeling too, like when it's from someone you do not want to be sending you flowers or, in this case, from someone you think just did way too much too soon.
All my friends thought it sounded exciting that a guy had sent me a huge bouquet of flowers after spending only a few hours getting to know me over drinks though (did I mention most of those friends were either married or in seriously long relationships and got vicarious thrills from my dating stories?), so I brushed off the paranoia and decided to go out with him again. On the second date, though, I heard the story of his divorce. Yes, he was divorced, and it turned out he had 2 kids to boot. Wow. Twenty-something single me was really not digging finding out that this guy, though cute and nice, was divorced with two kids. And the story wasn't pretty, because it involved a custody dispute, an ongoing one. Seriously, at one point I think I saw a tear in his eye. So, much as I sympathized for the guy, no way was I going to go out with him, I thought to myself.
So here's where the constant phone calls start. And I admit that at first I could've had a hand in making things turn out differently, but I didn't. See, that first time I talked to him again after the second date, I was very polite and all, and when he asked me out again, I said no, but I made it an I'm-saying-no-because-I-have-other-plans-for-those-nights-already no, not an I'm-saying-no-because-I'm-not-interested-so-don't-call-again no. So he kept calling. And by calling, I'm talking trying-to-call-you-all-day-long kind of phone calls. The day these phone calls started happened to be a day I went out with some friends after work, so I didn't get home until kind of late. And when I got home, there were 2 messages from him. Plus the caller ID showed he had called another couple times and not left a message. And I would have called him back, but then the phone rang right while I was looking at it, thinking how weird it was that he had called 4 times in one day. And the caller ID of course showed his name. And again, there was an opportunity where I could've prevented future hideousness by just picking up and telling him I didn't want to see him again, (nicely of course), but I was so irked that he was calling a 5th time in one day, after only 2 dates, that I let it ring. And I sat there and listened to him leaving a third message.
The next day I got home from work and found 2 more messages. Which I did not return. Again, just too irked to deal with it. And then the next day, I got a phone call from him at work. He called while I was on my lunch break, so I got the message from our receptionist. And shortly after I returned from lunch and got the message, he emailed me. At my work email. To say that he had called at lunch and left me a message. As if I wouldn't get it. I mean, dude.
So the following days the phone messages were just crazy. All upbeat; the guy was still trying, still convinced I was going to pick up one of these times and say "yes, let's go out tonight!!" Let's see; one message I remember getting said "I had a thought that you've probably been out of town the last few days. So hey, call me when you get back and get my messages." And then, "Hey, is your machine working? So, call me." Etc.
And then he called me again at work, and this time he actually caught me. He didn't mention anything about the fact that I had not returned 27 phone calls (yes I did keep track, and no I'm not exaggerating; believe me, my friends and I spent much time talking about this while it was going on. well, me talking and them mostly laughing their asses off, choking on their food over lunch while I tallied up the previous day's calls, that kind of thing). And in my tally I was keeping track of the times caller id showed he had called, but he didn't leave a message. And still not an entire week had passed since our 2nd date. So anyway, back to him catching me on the phone at work: that was creepy. For me, anyway; for him, it was apparently very pleasant, with little to no awkwardness. He actually said that the reason he was calling me that time was to tell me that he was graduating from the fire academy that week. (Yes, he was a fireman at Halloween, and meanwhile training to actually be a fireman ... whatever.) Like I would be really interested in knowing that. So I basically responded to him as curtly as I could, trying to make it clear I did NOT want to be talking to him, but he had called me at work, and I worked near people who could and did overhear (eavesdrop on?) all my conversations, and this is not a conversation I wanted people to overhear. But I thought I got my point across real clear, and I was essentially rude to him in the manner in which I ended our conversation. So rude that I was really not expecting to hear from him again.
Which is when he decided to show up at my place of work one day.
Yep, that's right. Luckily again, I was at lunch with friends when he came. But I could. not. fucking. believe. it. So I drilled the receptionist: what did he say? how did he seem? Well, apparently he was in a great big good mood. And he had a friend with him. He explained to the receptionist that he had just graduated from the fire academy that morning, he and his friend decided to go out to lunch to celebrate, and the lunch place just happened to be right across the street from my office, so he thought he would just drop by. Ok, where I was working at the time, the only restuarant right across the street was a bagel sandwich shop. Seriously? You just happened to have your celebratory yea-we-graduated lunch at the bagel sandwich shop? Man.
And here's the real kicker, at least this is the part of the story that really made my friends blow snot out of their noses from laughing so hard whenever I told the story of my stalker: he actually told the receptionist that he stopped by after his lunch that day because he wanted me to see him in his uniform. I don't even know what the fuck to say to that. (And I did ask the receptionist about the "uniform," and she said "I could hardly tell it even WAS a "uniform.")
Thankfully, though, that was the last I heard from him.
Oh, except for the following year, when I went out with a bunch of friends on New Years Eve and we ended up at that bar where I had initially met the guy, and he was working, and he was giving me dirty looks, and he had to take my drink order, and he brought me the wrong drink. And when I said "I didn't order a screwdriver, I ordered a vodka tonic," he said very nastily "well SOMEBODY over here ordered a screwdriver." Then he interrogated everyone around me about what drink they had ordered. No one had ordered a screwdriver. He mumbled under his breath, made me a vodka tonic (I watched carefully as he made it to make sure he didn't spit in it or anything), then glared at me with a bright red face of hatred when he put it on the bar in front of me.
Ah, it's so much fun to look back on dating experiences. Really makes you want to get back out there and date again.
One Halloween, while out with some friends, I met a bartender dressed as a fireman. He had the hat and the red suspenders, over a bare chest of course. And probably some pants and boots too; I just remember the bare chest. Anyway, we flirted some, and when I finally went home that night I had given him my phone number. I ended up meeting him out for drinks one night soon after that. We talked, had a couple drinks; it was nice. Well the next day I received a huge bouquet of flowers from him. And while yes, it's always nice to receive flowers, sometimes it can also be a bit of a bad feeling too, like when it's from someone you do not want to be sending you flowers or, in this case, from someone you think just did way too much too soon.
All my friends thought it sounded exciting that a guy had sent me a huge bouquet of flowers after spending only a few hours getting to know me over drinks though (did I mention most of those friends were either married or in seriously long relationships and got vicarious thrills from my dating stories?), so I brushed off the paranoia and decided to go out with him again. On the second date, though, I heard the story of his divorce. Yes, he was divorced, and it turned out he had 2 kids to boot. Wow. Twenty-something single me was really not digging finding out that this guy, though cute and nice, was divorced with two kids. And the story wasn't pretty, because it involved a custody dispute, an ongoing one. Seriously, at one point I think I saw a tear in his eye. So, much as I sympathized for the guy, no way was I going to go out with him, I thought to myself.
So here's where the constant phone calls start. And I admit that at first I could've had a hand in making things turn out differently, but I didn't. See, that first time I talked to him again after the second date, I was very polite and all, and when he asked me out again, I said no, but I made it an I'm-saying-no-because-I-have-other-plans-for-those-nights-already no, not an I'm-saying-no-because-I'm-not-interested-so-don't-call-again no. So he kept calling. And by calling, I'm talking trying-to-call-you-all-day-long kind of phone calls. The day these phone calls started happened to be a day I went out with some friends after work, so I didn't get home until kind of late. And when I got home, there were 2 messages from him. Plus the caller ID showed he had called another couple times and not left a message. And I would have called him back, but then the phone rang right while I was looking at it, thinking how weird it was that he had called 4 times in one day. And the caller ID of course showed his name. And again, there was an opportunity where I could've prevented future hideousness by just picking up and telling him I didn't want to see him again, (nicely of course), but I was so irked that he was calling a 5th time in one day, after only 2 dates, that I let it ring. And I sat there and listened to him leaving a third message.
The next day I got home from work and found 2 more messages. Which I did not return. Again, just too irked to deal with it. And then the next day, I got a phone call from him at work. He called while I was on my lunch break, so I got the message from our receptionist. And shortly after I returned from lunch and got the message, he emailed me. At my work email. To say that he had called at lunch and left me a message. As if I wouldn't get it. I mean, dude.
So the following days the phone messages were just crazy. All upbeat; the guy was still trying, still convinced I was going to pick up one of these times and say "yes, let's go out tonight!!" Let's see; one message I remember getting said "I had a thought that you've probably been out of town the last few days. So hey, call me when you get back and get my messages." And then, "Hey, is your machine working? So, call me." Etc.
And then he called me again at work, and this time he actually caught me. He didn't mention anything about the fact that I had not returned 27 phone calls (yes I did keep track, and no I'm not exaggerating; believe me, my friends and I spent much time talking about this while it was going on. well, me talking and them mostly laughing their asses off, choking on their food over lunch while I tallied up the previous day's calls, that kind of thing). And in my tally I was keeping track of the times caller id showed he had called, but he didn't leave a message. And still not an entire week had passed since our 2nd date. So anyway, back to him catching me on the phone at work: that was creepy. For me, anyway; for him, it was apparently very pleasant, with little to no awkwardness. He actually said that the reason he was calling me that time was to tell me that he was graduating from the fire academy that week. (Yes, he was a fireman at Halloween, and meanwhile training to actually be a fireman ... whatever.) Like I would be really interested in knowing that. So I basically responded to him as curtly as I could, trying to make it clear I did NOT want to be talking to him, but he had called me at work, and I worked near people who could and did overhear (eavesdrop on?) all my conversations, and this is not a conversation I wanted people to overhear. But I thought I got my point across real clear, and I was essentially rude to him in the manner in which I ended our conversation. So rude that I was really not expecting to hear from him again.
Which is when he decided to show up at my place of work one day.
Yep, that's right. Luckily again, I was at lunch with friends when he came. But I could. not. fucking. believe. it. So I drilled the receptionist: what did he say? how did he seem? Well, apparently he was in a great big good mood. And he had a friend with him. He explained to the receptionist that he had just graduated from the fire academy that morning, he and his friend decided to go out to lunch to celebrate, and the lunch place just happened to be right across the street from my office, so he thought he would just drop by. Ok, where I was working at the time, the only restuarant right across the street was a bagel sandwich shop. Seriously? You just happened to have your celebratory yea-we-graduated lunch at the bagel sandwich shop? Man.
And here's the real kicker, at least this is the part of the story that really made my friends blow snot out of their noses from laughing so hard whenever I told the story of my stalker: he actually told the receptionist that he stopped by after his lunch that day because he wanted me to see him in his uniform. I don't even know what the fuck to say to that. (And I did ask the receptionist about the "uniform," and she said "I could hardly tell it even WAS a "uniform.")
Thankfully, though, that was the last I heard from him.
Oh, except for the following year, when I went out with a bunch of friends on New Years Eve and we ended up at that bar where I had initially met the guy, and he was working, and he was giving me dirty looks, and he had to take my drink order, and he brought me the wrong drink. And when I said "I didn't order a screwdriver, I ordered a vodka tonic," he said very nastily "well SOMEBODY over here ordered a screwdriver." Then he interrogated everyone around me about what drink they had ordered. No one had ordered a screwdriver. He mumbled under his breath, made me a vodka tonic (I watched carefully as he made it to make sure he didn't spit in it or anything), then glared at me with a bright red face of hatred when he put it on the bar in front of me.
Ah, it's so much fun to look back on dating experiences. Really makes you want to get back out there and date again.
Monday, June 05, 2006
The Heroin(e)
My worst date isnt all that bad. My friend once met someone on a dating website. He took her and her cousin out for drinks. He made the mistake of picking them up. On the way back, after having a cool evening, the cousin overdosed in his car. Turns out she had being doing heroine and he hadn't realized. He had to stop the car on the side of the highway, give her CPR and then take her to the hospital. Needless to say that was the first and the last date.
Saturday, June 03, 2006
Thankyou For Coming
Editors Note: This story is one of my favorites from a few months ago, so I'm re=posting it. But be fore-warned , it contains adult themes concerning foul, disgusting behaviour, so don't read it...I mean it, do not read this story!
Hi,
We went out to dinner on Saturday night, and you called yesterday. I will NOT, under ANY circumstances, be calling you back, and I thought you might want to know why.
I had high hopes for you, you know. You were really cute, seemed articulate and reasonably intelligent, and worked at a decent job. But, man oh man, you SO BLEW IT.
Dinner was good, I have to admit. We chatted amiably and there weren't any of those long pauses in conversation where you feel all awkward and desperately scan the room looking for something to comment on. In fact, dinner was pleasant enough that I invited you up to my apartment for a drink. That's when things started to go wrong.
First off, even though I did ask you to come up, I'm not a slutty gal. I suspect that you thought just because I asked you to come in my house you were going to get LUCKY LUCKY LUCKY, but, let me tell you, asking me about whether or not I like "toys" on a first date and about my feelings regarding oral sex - that's a big NO for me. It's not that I don't like those things, I do, but that's just WAY too personal for a first date. In the same way that I wouldn't tell you about, for example, the worst thing that ever happened to me, or how I felt when my grandma died, or about my parent's divorce, or about how many hours I was on the toilet when I got food poisoning - because you see, those are personal things and I DON'T REALLY KNOW YOU, and therefore, they are INAPPROPRIATE, I'm not going to chat with you about my sexual habits. Strike one
Okay - so I thought that that was weird and rude, but you leaned in to kiss me and, what the hell, I kissed you anyways. Here's where things went REALLY WRONG! Cumming in your pants because of a 5 minute kiss is NOT IMPRESSIVE and does not bode well for the bedroom and I'm thinking at this point, maybe this is why he's so concerned with toy habits. While I would like to think that maybe I'm some kind of INSANELY good kisser and that because of my skill you were overcome, so to speak, I don't think that's the case. At this point I just wanted you to leave. That was strike 2.
So, then you went to the bathroom to "clean up" and then came back out and gave me this pathetic excuse about how you just remembered you had to return a video that you had left at a friend's house and needed to leave. By the way, that was a completely transparent lie, but I just wanted you to GO AWAY so I pretended to believe it. I suspect you were embarrassed, which you had every right to be, but come on, how stupid do you think I am? I can't believe you bought it when I nodded my head and emphatically agreed with you that late fees were indeed horrible and that, yes, it was an urgent manner that you retrieve your video and get it back RIGHT AWAY. Strike 3 for baldfaced, idiotic lying, you sorry ass.
So, you finally leave, and I'm thinking THANK GOD THAT'S OVER, and GODDAM IDIOT, and I put my sweats on and go to the bathrooom to wash my face and brush my teeth and I soap my face off and rinse it off and grab the handtowel I keep by the sink and I look down squinting because there's water in my eyes and think, "what's that?" and then get a whiff of it and realize OH MY GOD YOU BASTARD you cleaned off your sorry dick on my face towel. Were you not taught any manners? There was plenty of toilet paper, which I would have thought to be the logical choice, but you used my FACE TOWEL. I gagged and threw the towel out of the bathrooom. This is strike 4, and by the way, I had to throw the towel away and while you owe me a nice, thick purple face towel that hasn't been soiled, I will never claim this because that would require seeing you again, and I DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES want to do so.
So anyways, that pretty much sums up why I'm not returning your call, and why I don't like you. You suck.
Hi,
We went out to dinner on Saturday night, and you called yesterday. I will NOT, under ANY circumstances, be calling you back, and I thought you might want to know why.
I had high hopes for you, you know. You were really cute, seemed articulate and reasonably intelligent, and worked at a decent job. But, man oh man, you SO BLEW IT.
Dinner was good, I have to admit. We chatted amiably and there weren't any of those long pauses in conversation where you feel all awkward and desperately scan the room looking for something to comment on. In fact, dinner was pleasant enough that I invited you up to my apartment for a drink. That's when things started to go wrong.
First off, even though I did ask you to come up, I'm not a slutty gal. I suspect that you thought just because I asked you to come in my house you were going to get LUCKY LUCKY LUCKY, but, let me tell you, asking me about whether or not I like "toys" on a first date and about my feelings regarding oral sex - that's a big NO for me. It's not that I don't like those things, I do, but that's just WAY too personal for a first date. In the same way that I wouldn't tell you about, for example, the worst thing that ever happened to me, or how I felt when my grandma died, or about my parent's divorce, or about how many hours I was on the toilet when I got food poisoning - because you see, those are personal things and I DON'T REALLY KNOW YOU, and therefore, they are INAPPROPRIATE, I'm not going to chat with you about my sexual habits. Strike one
Okay - so I thought that that was weird and rude, but you leaned in to kiss me and, what the hell, I kissed you anyways. Here's where things went REALLY WRONG! Cumming in your pants because of a 5 minute kiss is NOT IMPRESSIVE and does not bode well for the bedroom and I'm thinking at this point, maybe this is why he's so concerned with toy habits. While I would like to think that maybe I'm some kind of INSANELY good kisser and that because of my skill you were overcome, so to speak, I don't think that's the case. At this point I just wanted you to leave. That was strike 2.
So, then you went to the bathroom to "clean up" and then came back out and gave me this pathetic excuse about how you just remembered you had to return a video that you had left at a friend's house and needed to leave. By the way, that was a completely transparent lie, but I just wanted you to GO AWAY so I pretended to believe it. I suspect you were embarrassed, which you had every right to be, but come on, how stupid do you think I am? I can't believe you bought it when I nodded my head and emphatically agreed with you that late fees were indeed horrible and that, yes, it was an urgent manner that you retrieve your video and get it back RIGHT AWAY. Strike 3 for baldfaced, idiotic lying, you sorry ass.
So, you finally leave, and I'm thinking THANK GOD THAT'S OVER, and GODDAM IDIOT, and I put my sweats on and go to the bathrooom to wash my face and brush my teeth and I soap my face off and rinse it off and grab the handtowel I keep by the sink and I look down squinting because there's water in my eyes and think, "what's that?" and then get a whiff of it and realize OH MY GOD YOU BASTARD you cleaned off your sorry dick on my face towel. Were you not taught any manners? There was plenty of toilet paper, which I would have thought to be the logical choice, but you used my FACE TOWEL. I gagged and threw the towel out of the bathrooom. This is strike 4, and by the way, I had to throw the towel away and while you owe me a nice, thick purple face towel that hasn't been soiled, I will never claim this because that would require seeing you again, and I DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES want to do so.
So anyways, that pretty much sums up why I'm not returning your call, and why I don't like you. You suck.
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