• Thu, Mar 31 2011

Real Talk: Vote For The Worst Date Ever

Jesus, God, you guys have gone on some bad dates. You make me glad that I’m in a committed relationship with Sheikh Hamdan bin Mohammed bin Rashid al Maktoum (alas, he does not yet realize our love is meant to be, or that I exist, so it’s only in my head). All the names have been changed to protect any contributor’s identities, unless they’ve requested otherwise.

If you feel like contributing to real talk, our next segment is on “How Our Parents Found Out We Lost Our Virginity.” If you have a funny story about that, shoot me an e-mail at Jennifer [at] thegloss.com

And, of course, vote for the worst date.

Sorry! This poll is now closed.

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  • magda

    I met a guy at a club when I was so sloshed, I actually fell over while trying to adjust the strap on my sling-backs. This guy and his friend were nice enough to help me up. He was not cute, and he was super short, but he was nice. He went on and on about how he lived in Manhattan Beach (A really uppity, expensive place in my area) and how he had his own boat and worked as a diver. At the end of the converstion, he gave me his card. I gave him my number. He started texting me immeadiately. A few weeks later he asked to get together. I decided, sure, why not? I wasn’t attracted to him, but it would be nice to go out with a “grown up” who so obviously had his life together…

    It was all LIES! He lived with his parents (not in manhattan beach) he drove a beat up old beetle (like the hood was a different color than the rest of it) and his boat was a tiny kayak thing. Our “date” was him taking me to the marina to show me his “boat” where he proceeded to just ask me over and over, “So do you party a lot? Are you a party girl? Do you want to drink? Do you party?”

    I think he thought that since he met me drunk, I would get drunk again and hook up with him. I ended up having to feign tiredness and an early work day(the next day was sunday). And he took me home. I then deleted his number.

  • hi

    It’s Bleecker not Bleeker. Pet peeve.

  • Kait

    Thanks, anon, I fixed it on my blog. I can’t fix it here though.

    • Jennifer Wright

      I fixed it here! Team effort!

  • Ms. Pants

    So did the Phone Guy ever explain what the fuck he was trying to do?

  • Jen Dziura

    “Death grip on my elbow-pit” got my vote. That was an evocative turn of phrase if I’ve ever heard one.

  • Kait

    Thanks! That phone story is pretty creepy…

  • porkchop

    Holy s***, Caroline. I’m glad you’re still with us! That’s probably the creepiest thing I’ve ever seen that didn’t ACTUALLY result in someone being killed.

  • Caroline

    He called me for the next two days leaving messages, but he never explained why he did it. I never answered the phone to ask but… Also, as crazy as this sounds, winning this poll makes the date almost worth it.

  • Diana

    What I don’t understand is why most of the girls didn’t just decide to leave. If you really dislike the person after 30 minutes, what makes you think it’ll be better later on?

    As for the phone-guy… Maybe I’m just not very trusting, but seeing how she had the phone in the bar and most likely when she got to the table, seeing how he knocked over her bag and he got everything very fast (clumsy, yet cat-like reflexes?!) and seeing how the phone wasn’t around, the only other option is that he took it on purpose. Also, why not try to call your phone?

    Why don’t women tell men what they don’t like?
    ‘Please, stop that, I don’t like it’
    ‘I’d rather see a film we both haven’t seen or do something else’
    ‘No, I don’t want a Long Island Iced Tea and if you won’t get me the drink I want I’ll get it myself, in another bar, far away from you’

    Claire, darling, you don’t need someone to save you from going on a bad date, you can just not go with the reason ‘You’re too old and, sorry, you may be very nice, but right now you creep me out.’

    Sometimes the little white lies of society are useful, I know I have problems with hurting people’s feelings, more than I should, but seriously! Are you ever going to see that guy again (except accidentally and then cross the street to avoid him)? Why do you care what a thief or a creepy old man think of you?