On Wednesdays, Amanda Chatel will be sharing stories about her strange, fascinating and sometimes wonderful dating life. If it makes you want to date, check outÂ TheGloss datingÂ page.
Just when I think men are angels (which happens sometimes, rarely, but still), I get an email from a reader about a date she had and I just shake my head and weep for us all. The same day I got this, I also received an email from our reader and regular commenter Alle, who received a message on OKCupid from a John Wayne Gacy groupie. Actually, the dude is more than a groupie, he’s obsessed… as his photo of him outside of Gacy’s house proves. I’m not sure why someone would post a photo of themselves outside of a serial killer’s house on a dating site, but I guess some ladies are into that.
Now here we have a tale from Jessie. She actually sent me to two tales that made me drop Â my head into my hands and just wonder. That’s all I could really do: wonder. I’m saving her other story for later on at some point.
I had been on about four dates with a dreamboat I met on the train, when I invited him over to my apartment for dinner and some Netflix. It was the holidays and my roommates were all out of town; it was the perfect recipe for seduction.
About two hours into him being over, it started to snow furiously.Â It was about then that I was beginning to realize he was not as dreamy as I had once thought. Red flags began to go up: he began speaking in baby talk (the bane of my existence), openly talking about our wedding, and telling me to â€śget himâ€ť things.
As time went on, it became apparent that due to the weather he was not going to be able to go anywhere, and I began to get nervous. I changed into some comfortable (read: completely unsexy) pajamas and when I emerged, my suitor began to lay the romance on thick.
Him: “Oh wow, I thought you would have cellulite but you don’t.”
Me: “Iâ€™m sorry, what?”
Him: “No, itâ€™s just that most thick girls — it looks good in their pants, but when they take them off itâ€™s allÂ cellulite. You donâ€™t have that, you look nice.â€ť
And with that he completed that sweet gesture by kissing me on the forehead and telling me to get him some more wine.
As the evening went on I began to panic a little more as he became more and more unpredictable and the snow raged on. I decided the best course of action would be honesty, and after removing his wandering hand from my thigh a third time I announced that I would not be having sex with him this evening or anytime soon. This did not deter him; he began begging me in a baby voice, which gave me a giant case of the heebies.
Out of frustration and a little fear I semi -yelled, “I said NO!” He looked at me, smirked, and actually said, “Some times no means yes”. After my blood returned to a normal temperature I informed him this was certainly not one of these times, and that unfortunately my offer to stay through the storm had expired and he had to go.
He lectured me for about an hour about how I was a tease, had a problem with sex, and my personal favorite, “shouldn’t invite someone over it I didn’t intend to follow through.â€ť Â He left shortly thereafter. For a few months after that, every two weeks or so, I’d get a text as if we were in a relationship and nothing went awry that evening. So, I know he didn’t die in the blizzard.
Aww, that’s nice that he’s still alive and out there giving women really bad compliments! I once knew this jackass whose only compliment he ever gave me in all the time we were hanging out was “you don’t have cellulite.” I remember being stunned and really taking a moment to fully contemplate exactly why the fuck I make such poor decisions when it comes to guys.
But back you, my beloved readers, can you top this one in the compliment category? Maybe you’ve been told something equally offensive that was supposed to be nice, but was just stupidly lame? Do tell: firstname.lastname@example.org