# Worst online dating stories

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And hopefully, someday, a good date. He insists that instead of dinner, he absolutely HAS to take me to his absolute-favorite-in-the-whole-world gelato shop, which just happens to be a couple of blocks away. Then, a couple Jack knew sat behind us, and he proceeded to turn completely around and have a conversation with them.\
&#x20;![worst online dating stories](http://gdblogs.shu.ac.uk/b1001751/wp-content/uploads/sites/105/2014/03/IMG_0005.jpg)\\

If you want someone else to pay your bills or buy you a purse in exchange for your company, along with added but unwritten expectations of sexual favors, fine. We had a couple quick conversations online, but he said he wasn't a elements writer so we had agreed to meet for coffee. It was a stupid thing for me to say in the first place. All in all, it wasn't too bad; I really enjoyed the place more than spending time with her though. He seemed really normal when I first met him in responsible life, too. Year later still in love. It was another dating disaster. Sometimes, he'd be away on business trips for a few days at a time and I'd stay over worst online dating stories his apartment. The first is when I waited an hour outside at Harvard Limbo in late January because my date was in the North End buying pot not for me. We ended up at a bar where he then guided the conversation to the topic of Israel vs.

At the bar, there were a bunch of beer-pong tables. When she walks through the door I literally choked on my drink. Not long after, I glanced out the window of my house and saw him parked a couple houses down with another person in the car. This man was 5-feet-9 and weighed in probably about 300 pounds.\
&#x20;![worst online dating stories](http://cos.h-cdn.co/assets/cm/14/25/480x372/53a00df8e3218_-_cos-02-bad-date-mdn.jpg)\\

**32 People On Their Worst Online Dating Experience** - How I Became a Dead Fictional Character Oh, god. Here's one from her Craigslist post: No.\
&#x20;![worst online dating stories](http://static.businessinsider.com/image/503f8ee2ecad045506000001/image.jpg)\\

After a bad breakup, I let my mom set me up with the son of one of her friends. I knew nothing about him other than his name and the fact that he was 16 years my senior. I like older men, so I agreed. It ended up being the shortest dinner date in history — a total of 22 minutes, mostly consisting of him making outdated pop culture references in an attempt to relate to me. I was bored to tears and couldn't wait to get out of there. He looked normal enough, and I agreed to go on a date with him. We met for drinks, and things were really going well. Handsome, charming, seemingly normal, so I agreed to go on another date with him. I'm completely freaked out, decide I'm going to the bathroom, and he asks if I need help wiping. I wish I was making this up. Your guy has put a pacifier on your plate. Do you need to get out the back? I cut the date short, declined a second date, and thought I was in the clear when I didn't hear from him for a couple of days. Then, I got an e-mail from him: not a single word, just a photo of his penis. Do you mind if we don't go to the place I suggested? I mean this is just a first date. We eat and he orders two drinks. He does not pay for my meal. It makes me have to pee. We had a couple quick conversations online, but he said he wasn't a great writer so we had agreed to meet for coffee. As I sat, I imagined the really cute guy and unbelievable credentials, and was extremely excited to meet him. Finally a guy sat down and introduced himself as my date, but instead of the 25-year-old I was expecting and was pictured on his profile, he was overweight, balding, and at least 50. He ended up talking to me for at least a half hour about how he was a 25-year-old in a 50-year-old's body, and that the picture was from his youth. Needless to say, I didn't call for a second date. The girl left, and about 30 minutes later, the police showed up and arrested him. They then took me in for questioning and asked me how long I've known him, where I was on this day, and so on. I then found out my date had set his roommate on fire and thrown him down a flight of stairs. Now he's in prison, and I never accepted another blind date invitation again. Jack was the captain of the basketball team, an A+ student, and all-around good guy whom I'd only admired from afar during my senior year. I saw him at a party 10 years later, and we ended up having a conversation. By the end of the evening, we had dinner plans for a few nights later. He picked me up right on time and had the reservations made — all good signs, right? The gregarious guy from the party apparently had left on a permanent vacation, and I was suddenly sitting next to Mr. Then, a couple Jack knew sat behind us, and he proceeded to turn completely around and have a conversation with them. He didn't even acknowledge my presence! My saving grace was a friend of mine who happened to be waitressing that night. The best part of the story? He actually called me the next day and asked if I wanted to go out again! It all took place at a brunch birthday party for my friend. After finishing brunch, we were having a few drinks. I sauntered over to a table where a really cute girl named Jessica was talking to her roommate and three of my buddies. I thought Jessica was cute as soon as I walked in. This does not explain why I started talking about a porn I had written in my head with my friend Luke. Luke and I are not a good combo. We egg each other on, and horrible thoughts that lurk in the depths of our minds somehow make it out for discussion. With Luke at the table, what should have been a done and done sentence about my porn turned into a full-scale discussion. We moved to another bar, and I decided that my porn discussion had not damaged my chances. What transpired next may have done the trick. At the bar, there were a bunch of beer-pong tables. As Jason and I took the table against Jessica and her roommate, we declared University of Delaware dominion and started sinking shots. With each shot, I peppered them with banter, infuriating them. By the time Jason and I had defeated them, a beating similar to Vikings raiding and pillaging a peaceful seaside town, Jessica was telling me to get away from her. She also smacked me. Ten minutes later, I was putting my clothes back on while being escorted out of the car by a police officer. My date was behind the wheel and had to convince the cop that he was sober while I had to swear up and down that I was undressing of my own volition before he let us go. We had a great time, and he suggested we go back to his house and watch a flick. So we were talking and watching a movie and were having a glass of wine when he mentioned something about going up to get a cigarette. He slipped away and I didn't think anything of it, until 30 minutes later when I realized I was still sitting on the couch in this stranger's home. To keep from bothering him, if he was talking to some friends or something, I texted him to ask him where he went. He texted me back 10 minutes later to tell me he was in bed. He left me, the first time in his home, alone. And went to bed. I was so irked I just got up, put the wine away, and walked out quietly. Needless to say, I didn't call him again. Robert stretched the truth slightly, telling Carrie he lived on the Upper East Side. When they got to Robert's apartment, they were having some wine and discussing regular topics while sitting on the couch, when suddenly Robert flipped out about his career. He got up, paced about the room, and muttered to himself about his career failures. Carrie, creeped out by his sudden shift in behavior, decided to turn in for the night, went to bed, and pretended to sleep. Once Robert thought Carrie was asleep, he downed a handle of Jack Daniels, while his ranting grew more and more disturbing. Carrie tried to calm him down and urged him to come to bed and go to sleep, which he finally agreed to do. But he got up again and went back to his Jack Daniels, downing shots of it this time. After things had finally quieted down, she noticed a strange sound coming from the corner of the bedroom. She got up and saw Robert in the corner of the room where all of her stuff was sitting on the floor, peeing on it. Finally, Carrie made her way home to Hoboken at 2 a. Great, I was going on a double date with a girl who hated my sister. When I got to the car, I saw a dog inside — it belonged to the husband of my sister's archenemy. After we were on the road for a few minutes, the dog climbed into the back seat where I was — yes, I was in the back seat — and threw up. I rode the rest of the way to his friend's house right beside dog vomit. The weirdest part of the date was that my date brought his camera and took pictures of the two of us like we were already a couple. I never spoke to him again. We decided to meet up for a date after work. He told me he had some great CDs in his car, so I climbed in and we started listening to music. Then, he asks me if I want to see a trick. I say okay — and he pulls out his penis and begins to flex it and make it wiggle. We never spoke again. I know if a girl seems unsure of herself in bed, it gets distracting and starts to feel awkward. The best thing to do is to act like you have some experience, and not question anything. John seemed sweet and romantic, and I had known him for years, so when he offered to take me out to a fancy Italian restaurant, I couldn't say no. I got all dressed up in my favorite little black ensemble and waited for him. He called and asked if I could just meet him at the restaurant. Arriving outside the restaurant, he came over laughing hysterically, and he had a friend with him. His friend said goodbye, and we headed into the restaurant. John, however, had no interest in actually eating dinner. He wanted immediately to head to the bar. I'm a smart, beautiful woman, and the last thing I need is some asshole alcoholic telling me I disgust him, joking or not. And that probably should have been my first clue. We had a one-night stand, and I didn't think much of it when he asked if he could take me on a date. I was a little surprised when he did call, and we actually made plans. We went to dinner, where he picked what I would be eating for dinner off the menu without consulting me. We then went to a movie, and he wanted to see a horror movie. I declined and suggested two other options: one comedy, one action. The man literally pitched a fit over the movie and caused a scene over it. I gave in to the petulant child he had become and watched a horror movie featuring a vivid and graphic rape scene within the first 20 minutes. After we left the movie, we drove to Wal-Mart. Why you may ask? Mustache needed to buy a gun rack. Yes, he took me on a date that involved buying a gun rack after two hours of on-screen rape and murder. And let me clarify about the mustache: it was pencil thin across the upper lip before jetting out into thick chops that ran down a 45-degree angle to his chin! Apparently, we frequented the same parties. I finally talked face-to-face with him about a month later, and he asked me out on a date to a coffee shop near campus. Who knew I didn't pass this white boy's test of Asian-ness? Had I known he had some weird Asian fetish, I would have NEVER have gone out with him. Jake's promise evaporated faster than a gasoline puddle in the sun. After dinner, Margaret went to her hotel room to change into her ballgown. He found Margaret's friends in a hotel room and proceeded to down an entire bottle of Goldschläger. Wasted, he headed back to the ballroom and accosted Margaret's grandmother. Margaret found him muttering about fishing and pried him away from her grandmother. Upon his return to the hotel room, his drug run coming up empty, he propositioned Margaret and her female cousin for a threesome. After Margaret turned down his romantic request for an incestuous threesome, he passed out drunk. Here is a list of the ways my body betrays me and makes me look disgusting to my date: 1. Constant nose running: It's really tough when you're at a nice restaurant where they only give you those fabric napkins. I can get away with blowing my nose on paper, but blowing a snot wad into one of those fabric napkins is pretty foul. Sweat: Body odor does not usually plague me, but I fear it. If I ever smelled body odor emanating from under my clothes, I'd just shut down the date and head home. Lately, also, I've been getting puddles under my pits. When this is happening, I just sit there like I'm in a straitjacket. Breath: Why do I insist on eating garlic earlier in the day before my dates? It must be some sort of self-sabotage because garlic takes about 24 hours to exit from every pore in my body and get off my breath. There are certain things out there that you can eat that don't respond to toothpaste and mouthwash, and they just leave your breath on their own time. Dry skin: When I get dry skin, I look like I have fleas, and I just can't stop scratching — not a very attractive thing to do on a date. Spraying it: I usually don't do this, but when I'm drunk, sometimes I spray it instead of saying it. The worst is when food particles fly out during dinner. Again, one of these things that your date should just call out and laugh at. Covering it up is just as awkward as the act of spraying! A guy walking toward me flashes me a big grin, then passes by. The guy suddenly comes back and stops me. We chat, and he asks for my number. I'm nervous about handing over my info, but he seems normal enough. So I jot down my first name and number on a scrap of paper. The next morning, I see several missed calls from the same guy, starting at the crack of dawn. What have I done? I turn the cell back on, and a new text awaits me. The next day, more diabolical calls. I'm too embarrassed to tell anyone I gave my number to a guy on the street. I want to lick your pussy.
