MVWD was set up via a friend. I had just gotten out of a verbally abusive relationship and had little to no self-esteem as a result. He was her friend on Facebook and after noticing pictures of me on her page he told her he thought I was beautiful and asked her to put in a good word. I am a bigger girl and I understand that we aren’t everyone’s “cup of tea.” I know physical attraction is very important, so I made full disclosure on my appearance before we agreed to meet. I told him I was plus sized and he saw full body photos (not just flattering angles) on my Facebook, but he reacted favorably, so I was excited to finally meet a guy that genuinely found me attractive.

For the afternoon date at a coffee shop, I dressed nicely but simply, arrived early and sat nervously at a table awaiting my date’s arrival. He arrived promptly on time and was just as gorgeous as his pictures. We exchanged greetings and chatted a bit about music, movies and books. We seemed to be meshing well intellectually and after an hour or so passed I was feeling a little hungry. I told him I was going to grab a bagel and offered to get him something as well, but he declined. When I got back to the table, he seemed a bit disturbed. Our easy banter of a few minutes ago was gone, and I awkwardly tried to resuscitate the conversation to no avail. Finally I asked him if something was wrong.

I sat in complete disbelief as he told me how much he liked working out and being healthy and that he didn’t think he could be with someone that didn’t “respect herself enough to take care of her body.” He made it clear that he wasn’t attracted to women of my “size.” I was understandably confused (and fighting back tears) and asked him why he chose to meet me in public if that were the case, when he could have easily told me in a message. He replied that while he wasn’t interested in dating me, he was trying to start a personal training business. He thought I could be a customer and maybe after “tightening up a little” we could see what happened between us! I simply got up and walked out to my car and cried the whole way home. He kept texting for a while asking when I wanted to go “train,” but I never replied and he eventually stopped. I didn’t date for a year after that.

What a jackass.

MVWD a few years ago was what I like to call a “trick date,” when someone you are already know asks you to “hang out” under the pretext of friendship and then pulls the bait and switch, attempting to romance you on your “hang out” and declaring their feelings for you.

K was my brother’s friend from high school and I hadn’t seen him in roughly 10 years, but my brother and he kept in touch. One day, my brother mentioned to K that I had moved to San Diego so K asked my brother for my phone number since we now lived so “close” to each other (he lived in Corona, about two hours away – I didn’t consider it close). My brother asked K why he wanted my number and K swore that he “just wanted to hang out.”  My brother, for some reason, gave him my phone number.

A few weeks later, I received a call from K. He said he was visiting his sister that weekend near San Diego and wanted to hang out while he was down here. How bad could it be, right? On Saturday, he picked me up (big mistake) and we headed to Old Town San Diego. He wanted to go to dinner, at which point I realized I might have been tricked into a date. As soon as we sat down to eat, K began pounding margaritas and shots. He became drunk very quickly and began to regale me with loud stories of how many fights he had been in and how he had been in jail multiple times. Fascinating. He then reached over the table and tried to hold hands with me – maniacally shaking them and refusing to let go. I quickly extracted them and mentioned that maybe me should slow down on the drinks, as he was driving.

He ignored this and continued to pound drinks. At one point, he lifted a butt cheek and farted in the middle of the restaurant – luckily we were on an outside patio – and then continued talking as though nothing had happened. I was mortified and disgusted. He then told me he had had a crush on me since high school and had come down to San Diego just to take me out, not to visit his sister. I was totally creeped out that he had lied to get me to go out with him and that he had been holding onto this crush for 10 YEARS. As the night progressed and we went to a couple of bars, he got even more drunk and started trying to grab me as I pulled away and told him I wasn’t interested. It became a game of me dodging his hands, which appeared on my ass and thighs constantly.

I ended up calling my brother, who called K and told him to leave me alone. After he hung up the phone, K became sullen and insulting. I took the opportunity to tell him I wanted to go home NOW – and that I was driving his car since he had gotten hammered. I drove back to my apartment and jumped out with the car still running. After I got inside, I got a text message from K saying, “Sorry I wasn’t good looking enough for you.” I decided no response was the best response.

My Very Worst Date was with a young sales guy N who I deal with through work. He’s based in a Melbourne, (I’m in Sydney), and was going to be in town for a few days and initiated a meeting. He asked for some restaurant recommendations as he was unfamiliar with the area, so I was happy to oblige. He made a few sad comments about “booking a table for one” and implied that he wanted some company.

Because I’d got to know him through work, and thought he had a girlfriend back home, I thought it would be nice of me to offer to join him for a meal one evening (first mistake). I had absolutely no intention of it being a date, just a friendly catch-up, as I was his client, and it was just a social/work thing. N said that he would charge it to his travel expenses, so asked me to find somewhere really good to eat.

Leading up to the day, N started emailing me every couple of days, calling me a nickname which I just shrugged off as being friendly (it wasn’t suggestive or creepy, so it was fine), and asking how my weekend was and what I’d been up to. Again, I didn’t think too much of it, just that he was trying to get to know me a little better so we would have something to talk about at dinner.

So on the night I’d booked dinner at a really nice place, and met up at the arranged time at the restaurant. We had a pre-dinner cocktail, and then ordered a bottle of wine and some great food, and had a really good chat about work, travel, life in general. We were having a nice time–but just as two people who work together, no flirting. I also found out that he and his long-term girlfriend had broken up a few months earlier. When I went to the bathroom, he ordered another bottle of wine.

We finished that bottle, and were both rather tiddly by this stage, we left the restaurant. N suggested we catch a taxi back into the city and have a coffee or another drink near his hotel, which was also right near where I had to catch the train home from, so that worked out well. N said that he wanted to drop a few things off, and wanted to show me the presidential suite he’d been upgraded to, because we were talking about it earlier (second mistake–I can’t believe I fell for that line!).

I had a look at the room and waited by the door, and then N said that he wanted to go to the bathroom before heading out again. When he came out of the bathroom, I saw that he had changed in to his pajamas which were giraffe print, and then jumped on his bed and put the TV on. I was a bit confused about the whole situation, so sat on the couch to process my next move (my brain was working rather slowly by this point), I didn’t want to be rude because I had to keep a good work relationship with this guy, but I also didn’t want to be there.

N came and sat next to me on the couch, and teased my glasses playfully, and then pulled them off my face and tried to kiss me and got a bit grabby. I pretty much yelled ‘No!” right in his face, and made some crappy excuse, and ran out of the room, and caught the train home.

Even more awkward than being on an accidental date? Having to have a meeting with him and my boss the next day. All I could think of were those ridiculous giraffe pajamas.

If I had known at the time I was on My Very Worst Date I would have taken notes or a picture to mark the auspicious occasion. Instead, I was focused on getting M home before she vomited in my car. M was a co-worker and M was drunk. Once a week a large group of my co-workers would unwind at a local bar, yet she was the only one in my tenure there to have become so drunk by 6:15 PM that they needed a ride home. I had agreed to chauffeur as I was the only person out of the dozen or so coworkers willing to do so. The complication was that M had asked me out a month prior to this. I showed up for the date in nice slacks and shoes, but we ended up slogging through a muddy corn maze in drizzling rain then eating at a theme restaurant – the kind with cliff divers, a mariachi band, and microwaved Mexican food. It was one of those dates that would have been quirky and cute had I actually been into her, but was annoying since I wasn’t. After the date, I made it clear I wasn’t interested in more and assumed that to be the end of things. By the time the bar get together occurred I felt things were fine and had no problem driving her home.

Fast forward three years. I eventually left the job and am currently dating B who still works at the same place. Recently, she came home fuming that “M is a bitch!” Apparently, when M found out B and I were together she informed anyone that will listen that she and I would make a much better couple as we had already been on “several” dates, not just the muddy corn maze, and we had a particularly wonderful date that night I drove her home. That’s when it hit me. Like the ending of The Usual Suspects or Shutter Island, I watched MVWD come together. While the proverbial coffee cup was dropping I flash backed to M showing up in different, fancier clothes than she had worn at work and a ton of makeup as if she were dressed for a date. I remembered how she had wormed her way into my games of darts and pool. I envisioned her sitting next to me; at the bar, at a table, nearly every time I stood up, she followed. Her cackling, drunken laugh echoed through my head as I thought of how her friends, people you’d think would give her a ride home, were nowhere to be found when the group broke for the night.

Like Keyser Soze’s inept niece, M orchestrated a simple after work get together into an epic date – yet like Teddy Daniels it was all within her mind.  The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he didn’t exist.  The second greatest was convincing this poor girl she and I were on a date that night.

I was coming home from work and saw CB, an old school friend, on the train. We never really interacted at school much, but we knew one another and had a bunch of mutual friends. We chatted as we made our way up the stairs and exchanged numbers. CB sent me a text a few hours later asking if I could like to come to his building and watch some Kung Fu with him and smoke some Mary Jane. He must have checked my MySpace page and saw that I love Kung Fu movies. I couldn’t refuse! No problem with  two acquaintances hanging out and watching a movie.

I get there and his mother opens the door. I speak to her for a second since she remembered me from our school then he walks me to his room. Since there were no chairs, I sat on the edge of the bed. He tells me to choose a DVD from his collection, which was all porn. Well, to his surprise, I always bring my own Kung Fu movies just in case. I pull out one of my favorites from my bag and hand it to him. His face looked like I just kicked his puppy. He reluctantly puts the movie in the player.

The way he was laying on the bed and staring at me gave me a weird vibe. As he hands me a joint, he asks, “Does weed make you horny? I am getting really turned on.” I reply that it doesn’t and that Kung Fu usually makes me want to practice karate chops and hit people with sticks. He backs off. The movie ends and I notice him rubbing himself.  My sign to leave. I stand up and tell him thanks for the movie. He grabs my arm and says, “Let’s wrestle on the bed.” Is he serious? I tell him I’m not interested and rather go home. He keeps pulling on me and tries to yank me on the bed. I yank him back, put my knee on his back and told him this is how I like to wrestle. I let go and walk out the door.

The building doesn’t have any cell reception, so by the time I get out, I check my phone and see that I have five voice messages… all from him. He’s begging me to come back and says that I hurt his feelings (I think I hurt his back) and that he wants to hang out some more. As I’m deleting the voice mails and texts he sent, he calls and I accidentally pick up. He is on the phone CRYING. He’s asking me how I could do that to him and why I would play with his feelings this way. I don’t even know what to say so I said I’m sorry and I hang up. He calls a few more times, but got the hint three hours later and decided to drop it. I was so glad I never ran into him on the train again.

I met this guy through a mutual friend and was not interested. In fact, I told him I was in a relationship. Not long after I receive a call from our mutual friend. “You’d better call him,” he said. “He’s at home cooking dinner for you right now.” I got his number from the acquaintance and repeated hotly that we had not had plans. I was livid as I dialed the number. I told him from between clenched teeth that I had no intention of having dinner with him. But I was unprepared.

He whined. He begged. He burst into tears. He had been cooking all day, he wailed, and what was he supposed to do with the special dinner? I gave in. I agreed to eat with him, but not alone. It was a dinner party, not a date. I arrived, bearing a salad in my roommate’s bowl, my contribution to the “dinner party.” The only other guest was a short, greasy man that I vaguely remembered had been lurking at the coffee shop and the party the week before. He shoveled down the doughy homemade noodles and watery sauce in under three minutes, grabbed a handful of cookies for the road and called, “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone” as he slammed the door behind him.

Mr. X pushed his plate away and stretched. “Know anything about massage?” he asked. It was clear that he hoped to score a massage, not offer one. I mumbled something about my hands being too small and tiring easily. “That’s okay, I really want to show you my hobby.” He brightened visibly as he brought out a tackle box. Fishing was not his hobby, alas…It was chain mail. This guy spent his spare time making the stuff from split rings. He had bracelets, necklaces, a knight’s cowl, everything.

“Will you put this on?” He was holding a skimpy chain mail tunic. I refused. “Pleeease,” he whined. “Everyone wants to try it.” I heaved a big sigh, rolled my eyes, and put the damned thing on. Over my clothes. He immediately excused himself to the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later, as he emerged refreshed, I was putting on my coat. “I checked my messages,” I lied. “Roommate’s car broke down. I have to get her.” “Great, let’s go!” he said. “Umm, she has her boyfriend and her dog. We won’t all fit.”

As I peeled out of his driveway, he kissed my passenger-side window. Halfway home I realized that I was going to have to buy my roommate a new salad bowl.

MVWD came in my senior year of high school. It’s important to know that I was a moderately attractive girl, who was the president of our high school anime club. For those of you who don’t know, that means I would voluntarily put myself in a classroom with about 20 very socially awkward guys once a week. Now, most of these guys were friends of mine. I had always been a “one of the guys” kind of girl. The other half were excited that a girl would talk to them, be nice to them and liked the same things they did. As you can imagine, this got me into trouble on more than one occasion.

On this particular occasion, I got tricked into a date. C approached me one day at school to let me know that he was “having some people over” on Wednesday, and wanted to know if I wanted to come. He said that he wanted to hang out with some of his friends and was planning a get together. I was a little hesitant, but I had nothing else going on that night, and I assumed that other club members and mutual friends of ours would be there. He made it sound super casual, so I figured that if I didn’t know anyone or it got boring, that I could slip out with an simple excuse. I told him I’d “try to stop by.”

Upon arrival on that Wednesday, I noticed that there are a handful of cars littered about as I expected so I go up and ring the doorbell. I was arriving about an hour after the start time of the party. C answered the door and invited me into his living room. I immediately knew that I had been mislead. His living room was crowded with all of his relatives, all of who were excited to meet me. His mother said she’d “heard so much about me.” After shaking many hands and being introduced to many of his family members, I was shepherded off into the kitchen. I spotted in the middle of the table, a birthday cake. The table was surrounded by his brothers and his best friend R, whom I had never met before. I realized that there were no other guests, and I look incredibly rude for having shown up an hour late with no gift. His mother came bustling in behind me, reporting that food would be served shortly. I, again, had to look incredibly rude because I had eaten before coming, having not known the caliber of event I had agreed to.

The food, cake and gift opening part of the evening took more than an hour, in which I sat in a very uncomfortable silence, paralyzed by the incredibly awkward situation. Then, the “kids” were released to go play video games downstairs. Still feeling rude, I apologize to C for not bringing a gift. We headed down into the basement and R and C’s brothers started playing a video game. I settled in on the couch to watch. C settled in way too close to me and put his arm around me. He then invited me to stay overnight and began asking me questions about how long I could stay and what I would like to do later after everyone left, without leaving anytime in between for me to actually answer these questions. I awkwardly made up an excuse to leave about 20 minutes later and drove myself directly home.

The next day I made myself very clear in letting C know that I was not interested in him and that I was not pleased by the way I was blindsided the night before. He apologized, and we continued to interact in a somewhat friendly way without incident for several months. Then, right before Christmas break, he approached me one day outside the gym (where most of our group hung out) and handed me a present with a note attached. He asked that I not open it until later. It was a three page love note, begging that I give him a chance because he was in love with me and would always be, and to please call him over the break. He even wrote out what a date with him would be like, which was hanging out in his basement, playing video games, and watching anime (Gee, that sounded familiar)!

Before the break began I again expressed that I was not interested but was flattered and I tried to return the gift (which was a book from a series I loved) and he would not take it back. He then began to tell all our mutual friends that I would not date him because he was black and that I was a terrible racist bitch. This was false and no one really believed him. He got passive aggressive, saying rude things about me loudly while I was in ear shot. I cut off all communication with him and I was seemingly free of C. Fast forward several months to my high school graduation party with family and my close friends that was held about 20 minutes south of my high school. The whole shindig consisted of 20 people at most. Invites had been sent our primarily through word of mouth and Facebook.

I was not friends with C on Facebook and perhaps my privacy settings were not the best, but it’s still creepy that he showed up, uninvited. His mother dropped him off, as he could not yet drive. Most of my close friends were not anime club members, so C sat awkwardly by himself for most of the party. I graciously said hello to him, but avoided as much direct contact with him as possible for the entirety of the party, which my boyfriend at the time was in attendance. After about an hour or so of failed attempts to communicate with me or my party guests, he got few up of being ignored and called his mother to come pick him up but not before signing my guestbook. He wrote, “Thanks for ignoring me. Also, you have a nice ass” next to my Aunt’s touching message about graduation and college.

So I was hanging out at a bar with my sister one night. She had invited some people from her work to join us. This guy and I were talking and he seemed nice enough. He was a stock boy at the place she worked and asked if I wanted to just hang out some time. I told him fine, but just as friends, not a date. So, the day arrived. He showed up with slicked back hair, a horrid shirt and brown corduroys. He said, “My ex-girlfriend helped me get ready for our date”. Creepy. “This isn’t a date” I said. We went to get some dinner. The conversation was tepid while I tried dodge his attempts at trying to “seduce” me. He told me that he’s a narcoleptic and falls asleep everywhere (unfortunately not that particular night so I could have escaped). The check came and I suggested that we go dutch. He got offended, saying that he doesn’t want his date to pay. “But this is not a date” I said again.

We went to a movie afterward (God knows why I continued on with this, possibly boredom). The movie hadn’t started yet, but somehow our conversation turns towards me revealing that no, I hadn’t shaved my legs (because this of course wasn’t a date). He stood up in front of the entire theater and yelled, “You didn’t even shave your legs for me?! Ohhhh, I must REALLY be special!” I slowly dissipated into my seat from utter embarrassment. The movie started, but he was watching me the entire time, looking at my reactions and reacting accordingly. Disturbing. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. He finally drove me home, tried to go in for a kiss and I dodged him like Keanu dodging bullets in slow motion in the Matrix, ran out of the car, up the stairs and slammed the door. He came up and knocked on the door. I didn’t answer. He tried for weeks to contact me. I did not respond. Then he starts meanly harassing my sister at her job for me not calling him — what an ass! Eventually he was fired for falling asleep on the job. I always get the winners!

What I can remember of MVWD has the distinction of being my own fault. I was secretary to the boss, a position both menial and powerful. I was throwing a birthday happy hour for myself—mistake numero uno, since I’m such a lightweight I might as well drink helium. B was my crush, the kind of tall, dark, handsome, smart, funny guy who all the women at work sighed over. I’m painfully shy, so it took a lot for me to mention to one of the attorneys that I wished B would come to my party. Later, I discovered that the attorney did indeed plant the suggestion that B come, while the two of them were standing at the urinal. Since B was just a law clerk at the time, I’m told he felt he had to go — I was the boss’s secretary, after all.

When I heard that he planned to attend, I did what any woman would do: starved myself all day so I’d be as skinny as possible. Five o’clock rolled around and I nervously arrived at the pub. My friends were there and surprise! So was my boss. He bought a round of shots, so I felt obligated to drink one, even though my empty stomach cramped at the unaccustomed alcohol. I quickly got light-headed, so I tried to eat something, but then B showed up and my appetite deserted me. He was everything I imagined him to be and he regaled the table with stories that had everyone in stitches while I pretended to ignore him. Even tipsy I couldn’t overcome my shyness. More and more drinks came my way as we celebrated, and stupid, stupid me, under the sudden impression that I could drink my shyness away, got stupid, stupid drunk. We all went to a nearby dance club and somehow I was holding his hand.

I’ve only got highlights from there on out. Vague, psychedelic black-out memories, plus the bits my friends were kind enough to fill me in on afterwards. I remember slapping B in the face. My friend told me I just up and whapped him for no apparent reason. I lost my purse, so he took me to his place, where I made fun of the contents of his refrigerator. About the time he was ready to take me home, I was ready to pass out and obstinately refused to get off his couch. He finally dragged me out to his truck where I kicked off my shoes and draped my bruised white legs across his dash. I couldn’t remember where I lived, so he got a tour of my neighborhood until I recognized my apartment building. With no keys to get in, I had to throw rocks at my mom’s window. I’m sure he enjoyed meeting her under the circumstances.
After painting such an attractive picture, is it any wonder B didn’t ask me on a second date?

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.