Dating horror stories
The following are stories sent to me by readers like you that I liked a lot and got permission to post online. Enjoy.
Dating Horror Story #1
Dave from Los Angeles
The following is a copy of a story sent to me by Dave in Los Angeles. I liked this story so much I decided to make a page for people who want to tell their own dating/sex horror stories.
I went to a birthday party for a friend of mine back in June, at this fairly trendy bar on Hollywood Blvd. called Pig and Whistle. Anyway, being broke I was tremendously happy that the lounge in the back that was reserved for our party had an open bar, and proceeded to get ripped to the tits. After hanging out for about an hour on the back stairwell so I could smoke (definitely makes it a bit easier to meet people away from the milling crowd and noise when you're smoking outside), I managed to talk to and get royally snubbed by a few girls before my birthday buddy introduced me to one of his friends, a lovely girl named Chelsea, along with her
friend Joaney. Joaney started chatting with someone else and I talked to Chelsea. She remembered meeting me many years ago and said, Hey Dave, how's it been going. I didn't remember her at all, which surprised me because usually I remember meeting attractive women, but we both lit up and proceeded to chat. After about 5 minutes I was thinking, My God I have to get her number. She finished her cigarette before me and went back inside, and after running into other friends and spending the next
hour seeing if I could get back to chatting with her, it wasn't working out. She was nowhere to be found, and being a worknight my ride and I decided to call it a night and I started to walk out with him. Walking out the long hallway, I noticed Joaney applying some lipstick in the mirror, and I did a doubletake and said "Joaney, right?" I was amazed I could remember her name, but there it was. She goes, "DAVE, RIGHT???", looking pretty drunk. I said, "I really like your friend Chelsea," and proceeded to say goodnight, but she stops me, and I see my ride impatiently waiting down near the middle of the hallway. She says, "Why are you leaving?" "Because it's late, and it's a worknight." She takes her still opened lipstick and starts writing down on the mirror, with her lipstick:
Dave has to go home early because he is a loser who will leave a roomful of hot women to go home, even though he missed out on getting a blowjob from a girl, even if she's a dyke.
This was just fucking weird. It seemed like she was hitting on me, which pretty much never happens, but she’s gay? I wanted to say something sarcastic like, "Well,not all guys have a one-track mind" but that would have been lame, so I just said something else even more lame: "I suppose you're right. I have to go now, my rideis waiting for me," but she stops me AGAIN and says, give me a hug. At this point I'm going, well this drunk girl is Chelsea’s friend, I better be cool and not be a dick. I hug her, and she says, NO! not one of those pussy hugs- give me a real hug. I weakly comply, thinking to myself, “too bad this isn't Chelsea…how did I get into this situation?” Normally I would have been at least flattered, but this was uncomfortable. I normally have a hard time with women who are really aggressive. She then demands I kiss her in a sensitive spot and she points to the skin next to her eye. I again give in to her demand, and she asks me to do it AGAIN. At this point, I can't help but think of the scene in Matrix Reloaded with Keanu and Monica Belucci, and realize I better get out of there before I embarrass myself and this girl by being rude. I say goodnight and quickly spin and split, even though she kept talking, and I discreetly didn't turn around, leaving very quickly. My ride and I laughed pretty hard when we got out to the street, thinking it was all innocent fun.
The next day I call the birthday boy and say, "Dewd. Give me Chelsea's number." He says, "Sure, no problem." I dial, get a voicemail. I ask her out for a date the next day, since I had an extra comp ticket to the Renaissance Faire (did I mention I'm a big geek/dork/loser? I dressed up as a Puritan). She calls me back after I left my pad and leaves me a nice message:
"Hey Dave, It's Chelsea. Thanks a lot for the invite, I'll be working all day
tomorrow as I'm a waitress and I work weekends, but why don't you try me some other time...maybe we can get a drink or just hang out. Bye."
My interpretation was: That was pretty positive. But after playing phone tag with her for 6 weeks, I finally nailed down a date. Dinner, Sunday evening, Wow! Alright, it’s on.
After an utterly bizarre weekend driving up to the Central Coast to see my
ex-girlfriend get married (don't ask), I race back to Los Angeles Sunday afternoon to get ready for my date. Getting home after duking it out with 101 traffic for four an a half hours, my neck sunburned from driving the same direction for too long and sitting in Santa Barbara too long (fuck Santa Barbara, it took me 45 minutes to get through 3 miles of that fucking stretch), I quickly shower and shave. I get my best skivvies together, call her to get her address, jump online and check citysearch for a swank place for dinner (I settled on a great place - 9 out of 10 rating). I get over to her place exactly on time.
Guess who opens the door? Joaney. The roommate. She wasn't exactly happy to see me either. I come in, and Chelsea is still getting ready. I sit on the couch and wait for her while Joaney completely ignores me and plays her PS2, Enter the Matrix game (coincidence? I think not). Having played the game a bit at a friend's house, since I'm too broke to afford games (or any luxuries for that matter) I then try to break the icicles growing from every direction by offering her some advice with an area she's stuck in, but I didn't remember exactly what level she was on and the advice doesn't work, which isn't helping matters. She says, "Oh, thanks, great," throws the controller on the floor after a minute and leaves the room. I'm thinking, “this is pretty shitty.” Well, I just need to stay cool, not mention anything about the flirtation to Chelsea, and I'll be the discreet, good-mannered gentleman. I'll win Joaney over the hard way. When Chelsea is finally ready she goes over to say goodnight to the roomie, who is now in the farthestmost section of the apartment acting pouty. I say goodnight to her, but she ignores me. Not good.
Well, I'm not going to give you all the details from the date. The highlights: Her dimples are epic. Her intellect and taste are impeccable. She is fun and witty. She has the body of a Playboy Bunny. Our conversation never lagged for a second. We closed the restaurant down. I paid the 100 bucks for dinner happily out of the emergency fund credit card. She was gracious in paying cash for the valet parking because I didn't have a single red cent on me (I asked during dinner and she didn't mind). We walked to a bar across the street and closed that down too. I drove her home and after parking we chatted in the car another 20 minutes, and she offered to see me again without me even asking. I walked her to her door and said goodnight after kissing her cheek, and felt I had hit a home run. Bizzarly, as she was entering her apartment, a guy riding by on a bicycle who witnessed this little scene yells out to me, "You fucked her!" Not: ‘you should have fucked her’, not ‘you fucker’.... you fucked her. That was slightly creepy. I left quickly, still feeling damn good. I really liked this girl.
After getting some advice from some more experienced chums on the matter, I waited 2 days to call her to say I had a good time and wanted to see her. Didn’t want to seem too anxious or overly needy or anything negative, but at this point I was excited to see her again. I had to leave another voicemail, which was fine since I knew she was busy all the time. I wasn't prepared for the message she left on my machine the following day. I'll try to recall it verbatim.
"Hey Dave, it's Chelsea. I had a great time the other night, thanks a lot for the dinner, it was fun. Unfortunately, I don't think it's possible we can see each other again. I...got some ill will from my roommate about it, and since she's dear to me and is important to me, I'm going to have to...defer to that. So I'm now erasing your number from my cell. I'm sure I'll run into you again at some point in the future, so until then...be well." Click.
The first time I heard the message, I thought she actually said she was erasing my number from her soul, which is what it felt like, but I listened to the message 3 times because I couldn’t believe it, I was just in total denial. I felt the cellphone number deletion comment was what really bent me out of shape. Why say something to intentionally let me know she never wanted to speak to me again? Why not be diplomatic, didn’t I deserve that? I was fucking pissed off.
I'm writing this email to you, a complete and utter stranger, at 4 o'clock in the morning on a worknight, which shows you how bent this kind of thing makes a guy. It's not the money I spent on the date, because I know it went well & I’ll always remember it as such. It's because I don't really get it. Why did she bother to go out with me? Did she think I was calling her every week for weeks because I wanted her friendship, and I crossed the line somewhere? Did she just want to make her roommate jealous? Did she want a free dinner? What the FUCK! I don't get it. It sucks mostly because she really seemed to like me, and I thought she was wicked awesome too. I wish I just understood what happened.
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Dating horror story #2
