I met my date, R, like many other MVWDs, online. He seemed friendly and excited to communicate, so I thought I would give him a try. He appeared cute in his pictures, and we talked on the phone a few times before we met.
I should have known it would turn out badly when he insisted on going on our date on Father’s Day. He claimed it would be his only day off work for weeks, and even though I explained I had plans with my family in the morning, he insisted until I finally gave in. He called me multiple times during lunch to ask for directions, as he thought he saw a sign for a bank with the same name as my area about, oh, an hour away. He was pissed when I didn’t answer, even though I made it clear I would not be able to during the meal with my family, and kept sending me texts about how many miles away he was. I should have told him to turn around right then.
He picked me up in a very well-populated area, and though he didn’t quite match his appearance in his pictures, I didn’t think I should judge him too hard. He didn’t mention that his pick-up truck was so big it would take up two parking spaces (I live in a city with limited parking, so finding one space at all is considered lucky). Oh, he also didn’t tell me he smoked, and proceeded to light up the second we got in the car, making for a rather hazy drive.
We drove about an hour to a city north of mine, and parked to get something to eat. After walking around for about 45 minutes, he decided on a place by the water, which I thought might be semi-romantic. He proceeded to order an appetizer, discussed throughout the duration of the “meal” how he doesn’t have an appetite, and then told me how much I owed when the check came. At this point, I gave up all hopes of the date being romantic in the least. We went back to his house and watched the terrible film, Camp Dread. As I was trying to enjoy his company in a platonic manner, he suddenly pulled up my skirt half-way to ask what color underwear I was wearing. Needless to say, I was ready to go home.
On the drive back to my area, he lit up a few more times, and hounded me on whether or not I believed Led Zeppelin or the Rolling Stones deserved to be famous more. He dropped me off a good half mile from my house, saying it was easier for him to get back on the highway from there. I jumped seemingly ten feet down from his car and quickly walked away, deleting his number from my phone as I went.
MVWD occurred during my first semester of college. I worked in an organic grocery store which attracted a number of strange customers, one of whom was a rather nice gay man, P, who was a favourite of all the cashiers. I was 18, and I closed the store by myself most weeknights, a time when P would come in and buy his favourite chocolate milk. After seeing him nearly everyday for a while, we got to talking and he mentioned his exotic Asian travels. When he gave me his Facebook information, I didn’t think anything of it.
A few weeks later, he commented on one of my status updates about my craving for pumpkin pie and asked me on a ‘pie’ date. I was thrilled, an older gay guy (he was 34-ish) wanted to take me out? That’s awesome! We agreed to meet at the store I worked at was it was near my house and a safe place to leave my car. We met, and naturally, things got awkward fast. I realized the second we started driving to the sushi place he’d picked that not only was he a lot older than I had thought but we’ve got absolutely nothing in common other than he shopped where I worked.
After an uncomfortable and rather expensive dinner, we invited me back to his place, to eat the pie he had lured me with in the first place. Agreeing, more because I was too uncomfortable not to agree, we went back to his place where he proceeded to provide me with alcohol and (badly) attempt to seduce me! What? I thought he was gay! I was surprised, but in retrospect, I know that it was my mistake for assuming.
After two hours, he finally agreed to take me back to my car. I was relieved and immediately ran inside the store and hid in the bathroom until he was gone. For the following six months after the date, he sent me invitations to parties, events, marathons, etc. Finally, my last communication from P was on my birthday, a very detailed and graphic discription of his desire to “eat” at my “restaurant,” if you know what I mean…
Sad to say, that this is actually my second story submission. This one just happened recently and I thought I’d tell you guys another story.
I met a nice girl through a couple of friends of mine. We immediately hit it off and agreed to exchange numbers and chat a little. We would talk on the phone for a bit, met up a couple of times for a quick “hello” and a few texts here and there. Our friends approved of this so I thought for sure that this would be in the bag, no problem. Boy, was I wrong!
We arranged a date and agreed to meet at a nearby park. I sat on the bench and waited for about five minutes and she showed up right on time, so right away, she scored points. We were both well dressed, but I was a little curious about her bringing a backpack with her and it looked really full to the point where it looked like it was going to burst. But I didn’t comment just yet. We sat there talking for a little while about what we were going to do. We both agreed to a walk in the park, dinner and either mini-golf or a movie. Right before we stood up and ready to kick it off, she told me to hold up for a second. So I did and sat right back down.
She looked around nervously to make sure no one was watching and she began to unzip her back-pack and I was absolutely disgusted at what I saw. Right out in the open, she thought it was no big deal to bust out a bong and started smoking weed right in the park open for all eyes. No offense to anyone who might enjoy some weed every now and again, but to me, it’s totally not my style, I want nothing to do with it and I frown upon it in the biggest way. I’m sure even most of the tokers would agree with me that if someone has even the slightest slice of class in them, they wouldn’t bring weed on a first date. She then asked me if I wanted to take a hit. I gave her the biggest NO I have ever given anyone. She kind of sensed my powerful NO so she apologized if it was making me feel uncomfortable. But it still didn’t stop her, she kept smoking away.
I’m a major prick and I don’t put up with a lot so I told her that maybe this date was a mistake and I couldn’t see it going anywhere. If the first 30 seconds of the date starts off with smoking weed in public, just imagine what the rest of the date is going to be like! She explained that she had a far walk and it took her so long to get here. She said she was sorry and she won’t do it for the rest of the date. But I tried to explain to her that even if the rest of the date goes great, I still wouldn’t make any further moves because of her habit. (It’s OK if you all do it, this is just my preference, that’s all. We all have preferences). She begged and said she was looking forward to the date. I stood my ground and said that it was not my problem, but I did give her money for a cab. It was the shortest date (five minutes!) I have ever been on.
Now my friends know just how against drugs I am so I called them to give them crap for not warning me. Their response: “I thought you knew? We were even wondering ourselves how the hell you agreed to a date.”
But there was more to the night than this…
I came home and I had a message on a dating site from a girl who wanted to meet that night. She was attractive and had a really well-written profile so I agreed to a coffee. We met up, and again, we hit it off. We went walking downtown and told me she had to make a pit-stop real quick at a friends house. I agreed. When we got there, I realized what was up. The house looked terrible on the outside and even worse on the inside and it smelt awful. Right away, I knew she was going to buy something to smoke or snort. I told her that I wasn’t feeling well and had to leave. She hit me back with “Oh, don’t worry, as soon as I buy dope off this guy we’ll be out of here in no time.”
I waited for her to be out of my sight and then made a break for it and went straight home. She texted me to call me a “stuck-up prude who looks down on other people and their habits.” I’m neither of those. I just don’t like being lied to. Her online profile asked if she did drugs and her answer was no. I had no idea what she bought that day nor do I want to know.
Two drug addicts in one day. Unbelievable, just unbelievable.
I had just broken up with a suicidal drug dealer who continually compared me to his ex-girlfriend, when I accidentally ended up on MVWD. R was my ex’s best friend, who had just spent the past month stalking said best friend, and sending her countless text messages at all hours. He even wanted to stay in Boston after his graduation so that they could be near each other. She told him it was not going to work out and that she would not be attending his fraternity’s semi-formal with him.
Since R seemed so disappointed after being rejected by my friend, I offered to stand in as his date for the semi-formal. I figured that we could go as friends and that his needing a date was more important than my distaste for fraternities in general. When R picked me up at the door he stared me up and down, then made a comment about blue Betsey Johnson dresses being sung about in rap songs. He then pointed at my face and said “I like the way your uh, you know, matches your dress.” Despite the fact that I’d never wear blue eyeshadow, and I certainly wasn’t wearing any at the moment, I thanked him and we moved on.
When we got to the frat house, R made me a drink and then quickly had three himself. He told me repeatedly how glad he was that he was getting drunk already, since alcoholism used to be a problem of his. Afterward, we ended up on the porch, smoking cigarettes where R told me that he didn’t like the way I treated men and then talked endlessly about an ex-girlfriend of his. Apparently I reminded him of her and he had only tried to date my friend because he thought she’d be like me, and therefore like his ex-girlfriend. Not knowing how to respond, I chainsmoked four cigarettes and hoped desperately that he’d stop talking. On the way back inside, he tried to put his arm around my waist. I quickly removed it and he apologized profusely.
Inside, we sat around a table in a room with some people who were smoking a bowl. Everyone was chatting pretty normally until R said, “My eye is twitching. Can you see it?” I told him that I couldn’t tell, and to just relax but he kept getting in my face saying, “Just look at it. Can you see it? Right there. It’s twitching!” After about 10 minutes of this, he got up suddenly and ran off. I texted him repeatedly asking if he was alright and he responded, “No.” He wouldn’t take any of my calls and I ended up calling my ex to ask if R had run off and was with him. I was just told to “go home” and “get out of there.” He refused to say anything else.
Immediately after the call, R came out of a door right down the hallway. He triumphantly told me that he’d just puked in a box which had holes in it. He hadn’t known about the holes, but he figured someone else would clean it up later. He kept repeating about how glad he was that alcohol could make him vomit now. I told R that since he was sick, I figured that we should just go home. He agreed, told me that we had had a great time and should do it again, then left me to find my own way back to my dorm at 2 a.m. Suffice it to say, I am never stepping into a frat house again, no matter how sorry I feel for someone.
I’ll keep this story short and pureed.
Once upon a time, a really great looking, professional, stable-seeming guy contacted me on JDate. I agreed to meet him at his condo for a coffee. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking and you’re right – never meet a guy at his place on the first date. This occurred when I first began dating, and I just didn’t know any better. And his picture was really great looking, he was a professional, he seemed stable… you know the drill.
Fast forward: I am sitting on the sofa in his condo, 10 minutes into the date. He has “player” good looks and seems a little narcissistic but is polite. Instinctively, I just know something’s askew. He asks if I’d like a snack and suggests I follow him into the kitchen. I do. He explains that he has only one kind of food in his kitchen, and that’s baby food. This is the only thing he likes to eat. Not medically necessary–he just likes the stuff. He opens up several cupboard doors, revealing neat stacks and stacks and stacks of little Gerber bottles. He has no other food in his kitchen. His good looks suddenly go grotesque.
The date ends before the 15 minute mark. I suddenly “realize” that I haven’t left sufficient money in the parking meter, I have a bit of a headache, and I need to be somewhere across town.
