Mirror, mirror on the wall, I AM the loveliest of them all.

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 out TheGloss dating page.

Narcissism. It’s not a pretty trait in a person. In fact, it goes beyond being simply “not pretty,” to something that mental health professionals regard as an illness. Yes, you narcissists out there, you need some meds and you need them now.

There are many types of narcissists. I’d try to cover them all for you, but as a narcissist myself, I don’t have time to think about things other than myself for more than a few minutes without losing my cool and throwing something that will surely break. I’m dramatic as well.

This week’s Dating Hijinks delves into some twisted narcissists who are not only full of themselves, but are so impressed with their very existence that they’ve created a world in which they’re being stalked — by their own doing. It doesn’t make sense, does it? That’s probably a good thing. If it did make sense, that would make you a narcissist, too, and frankly, we don’t have enough room for more.

The first story comes for Breezy and her hot date with a guy in a cover band… but not just any cover band:

Adam was a friend’s cousin and a serial monogamist. I had never run into him when he wasn’t seriously in love, so the one time I did when he was single I thought it might be fate. We laughed, drank, and seemed to really hit it off. I was floored when he asked for my number. 

He was late to pick me up for our first date. I was too excited to care since Adam mentioned that he had “planned” the evening for us. What he really meant was that he wanted to get dinner eventually, but first we were going to drive around and listen to his band’s CD.


I swear to God, this actually happened. It was a nice day, so I tried to see this as something different than the old dinner-and-a-movie routine. I later realized he was actually just a compliment-junkie and was trying to milk me for all the praise I could give.

 After dinner and at least an hour of him telling me how unique and interesting his tattoos were (they weren’t), he wanted to go hang out at my apartment. What can I say? I was an idiot.

After a short make-out session, he began pressuring for more. (If he is pressuring you after you already said no, he is an asshole. DON’T DO IT. Twenty-year old me had not learned this lesson.)

After what seemed like hours of me refusing and him insisting he “wasn’t that guy,” I eventually caved and gave him a handjob. He came on my grandma’s quilt and never called me again.

He was that guy. Ugh.

No one wants to date that guy, especially if he’s in a Maroon 5 cover band of all things. Of course, somewhat naïve 20-year-old Breezy, never saw Adam again.

Aimee, who is now happily engaged, had a level of narcissism to share that practically borders on some sort of sociopath type shit.

Not long after things started getting serious with a particular fella, Aimee began receiving threatening Facebook messages from a very jealous girl who was friends with this guy on FB. The messages became so scary, that Aimee filed a police report. The kicker? It was the guy she was dating: He “made up a fake profile on FB and posed as a female in love with him.”

I figured out it was him but thought he would do something to me if I confronted him especially since I filed a report (he was suspiciously pissed that I did that.) So I withheld intimacy (I cringed when he even touched my hand), until he dumped me.

A month later he snuck into my dorm and slipped a really creepy love note under the door that I only skimmed and then shoved to the bottom of the trash. He was pre-med. This is why I don’t have Facebook.

Hello? Norman Bates? Get back to the Bates Motel! And while we’re still on the topic of Facebook and narcissism, here’s B’s adventure with the type of guy any gal would just love to bring home to mom and dad. Or not.

A few years ago I was out with a friend and met “D.” He was nice enough, and I was a bit drunk, so when he asked if we could “hang out” sometime, I said yes. 

He never bothered to call me, but found me on Facebook instead. We started FB chatting, which he abruptly ended by asking if I wanted to come by for a beer now – as in that moment. Having been single for a couple of months and just feeling like it in general, I thought, why not.

When I got there, I learned he was living on his friend’s couch in the tiniest apartment, with a Chihuahua he liked to get stoned. I don’t usually care about accommodations, but this was just too sketchy. He then proceeded to blab non-stop about how great he was, even going as far as admitting he was “a bit” narcissistic, and that I was pretty much there because the company of a pretty girl always boosted his ego.

I sat there baffled, really wondering how I could get out of it. There was no actual conversation; mainly just him telling me to “educate myself,” if I dared say I didn’t know a movie or something. I finished my beer and then got up, making my way to the door; mumbling something about an early day.

He let me put on my shoes, then grabbed me, and kissed me violently. I was surprised he could think this was going anywhere, so I just kind of said bye and turned towards the door. That’s when he grabbed me again, from the back, kissed my neck, put his hand down my pants and said: “Don’t make me beg for it.”

I laughed nervously, freed myself and bolted.

You guys, dating is totally the pits. Although! As per last week’s request to get some positive dating stories, those did come in and I’m excited to share them with you. But I’m holding out until it’s officially Love Actually season, because they’ll go together so well.

Do you still have a dating story to which you’re keeping to yourself but want to get off your chest? You should know the drill by now: chatel.amanda.com. So far I haven’t sent any drunk emails to any readers, so I’m either maturing or not drinking enough.


Photo: Mutual Responsibility