So this year, I went on many first dates—some with women I’d met through various apps, and others with women I’d met in a more organic way. I even went on two legitimate blind dates this year, in case you’re trying to gauge just how thirsty/desperate/alone I am. (And, surprisingly, they were both great!)
Some of my first dates in 2015 were amazing, but many were not...sometimes because of me.
Here are some recaps of the worst first dates I’ve been on this year.
We’d just both finished our first drinks, and things were going well. The conversation was friendly and flowing, so we ordered another round of specialty cocktails. I took a sip of mine, and it tasted like whiskey, so that put me into my comfort zone. I love whiskey!
But then she took a sip of her drink and said it tasted like semen.
“Wanna sip?” she asked.
“No, not really," I replied.
“But it tastes like semen!”
“You’ve never tasted semen before?”
This was followed by a diatribe about how this woman was amazed I’d never, like, gotten curious and taken a lick of my own semen.
“I’ve been with plenty of women who vouch that semen is not great tasting, so I don’t know if I want to do that,” I said.
“Well, before we see each other again, you should totally sample your semen!”
We did not see each other again, and I still don't know what semen tastes like.
Sometimes, I drink a little too much in situations where I definitely should not be drinking much or even at all. An example: One night, I had a first date set for 8:30 p.m. and started drinking with coworkers about three hours beforehand. (I was nervous?) My date and I met at a bar in Chelsea, and I remember about 30 minutes of the conversation. She seemed friendly and was quick to tell me she was adopted, and even in my drunkenness, I concluded there was no physical attraction—which is, you know, important.
Then I blacked out.
I remember nothing after that for an unknown amount of time. I came to sitting on the couch playing a hockey video game with my then-roommate. When I asked if I’d said anything about my date, he said I hadn’t and he hadn’t even known I’d been on one, that I just came home, sat down, and asked if I could get in on the next game.
Having no idea how the date had come to an end, I texted her to apologize for my drunkenness and to say I hoped that I hadn’t done anything too stupid.
“Well, you left without saying anything while I was in the bathroom,” she wrote.
I apologized profusely for my Irish exit and then, after confirming that I’d paid for our drinks before vanishing, went to bed thinking I’d never hear from her again.
A few days later, she asked if I wanted to go out again. I didn't answer. I was too embarrassed, for one thing, and I was also worried that it was an ambush of some sort. I also had no idea why she would want to give a guy like me a second chance after I had left our date without saying goodbye. (Two things: First, in hindsight, I should have never texted her afterward, but I was curious. And second, if I had been physically attracted to her, I would’ve seen her again because I am a terrible person with dude hormones and would probably bang someone like Bristol Palin if she showed up in front of me and was like, “Wanna hit this as long as I promise you won’t make my third out-of-wedlock child?”)
I was a couple drinks in with a woman, and things were going well, but then she told me she liked to ask “unique questions” on first dates. I told her to ask me anything. She asked me which part of a baby human I would eat if given the choice. I laughed and said I didn’t know, assuming that she was just being quirky and messing with me. She said, “No, seriously.” I said none of the baby and that I had to go.
I’m not even sure how we got to this point, but my date told me a long and detailed story about a time when she tried out one of those websites where young pretty women can match with older (apparently lonely and socially awkward) men who have a lot of money. She says she went on a date in New York with a “Sugar Daddy” and then (on his dime) flew to Vegas the next weekend to hang out. She was perplexed that he was upset that she wouldn’t have sex with her after he had funded her trip. (For the record, I am not condoning his being upset—consent is cool, folks.)
“I’ve written an essay about it!” she said. “You’re a writer. Would you look at it for me?”
I told her my consulting fee, and she seemed offended that I wasn’t going to do it for free.
I met a woman on Tinder. We set up a date at a bar near my office. I got us seats at the bar, and about five seconds after she came in and sat down next to me, she asked me if I was married.
“What? No. I’m not married. We met on Tinder!”
“Oh, okay. I saw your ring and freaked out a little bit.” (I wear a ring on my right middle finger, which is not a sign of marriage in any culture I’m aware of.)
“No, this is a ring that I wear," I said. "If I were married, I would have taken my ring off before a Tinder date."
The rest of the date went terribly, as I expected following her inability to distinguish what rings on certain fingers mean in the grand scheme of society. I resolved to never see her or speak to her again.
But it got even worse when, a few days later, I ran into her in my building’s cafeteria and discovered that she worked a floor above me.
It got worse still when I showed a picture of her to my coworker and he told me that not only had his roommate gone on a Tinder date with her, but that he had put it in her butt during said date.
I was sitting next to my date at the bar, and she kept looking around at our surroundings like she was expecting someone else...and she was.
Her ex-boyfriend showed up. She pointed him out to me.
“Gawd. I used to date that guy," she said. "I didn’t think he’d show up at this bar again without me. It’s where we had our first date.”
Turns out, they'd had their first date there because the guy frequented the place and also sometimes worked there, so she was essentially expecting him to show up. This was weird for me but also kind of cool in a perverse way because I apparently seemed worth showing off to make someone else jealous.
The minor coolness evaporated rather quickly, though, when he came over, said hi, hugged her, and then they proceeded to talk for about 20 minutes, during which I downed one drink and ordered another without either of them even noticing.
Eventually, he left, and I said I was going to head out. She asked why, and I asked if she really wanted to have that conversation. She apologized for her behavior and offered to pay for my drink.
She didn’t know it had been “drinks.”
Here's to a better dating life in 2016!