I have always thought living
in a major city while being single couldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Seemingly,
there is an endless supply of eligible bachelors, and you can swipe until your
fingers bleed without running out of guys to talk to daily.
However, after years of
playing the dating game, I began to notice a pattern.
Never-ending exchanges of, ‘what
do you do’s and ‘where are you from’s before fizzling out into nothing more
than a collection of dusty matches on your Tinder shelf. The excitement seemed
to be lost by the third or fourth mundane exchange when one of you stopped
responding. What was the point of it all if neither of you were going to move
any further?
I decided enough was
enough. I had wasted too much time
having bullshit conversations that went nowhere so if we matched we were hanging
out, and it didn’t matter if you were my ideal type or if Ok Cupid thinks we
are only 67 percent compatible. If we flirted long enough to exchange numbers
in bar, we were going on a date or having a drink. Basically, as long as I found you attractive
and you didn’t ask for nudes, I was willing to give it a shot.
What was the worst that could
happen? I get a bunch of free cocktails? I find the love of my life? I get
murdered and worn as a suit? The possibilities seemed endless! But for the
first time, at least they were exciting.
What started out as an
optimistic experiment turned into a slap stick Romantic Comedy, but *spoiler
alert*Drew Barrymore didn’t get swept off her feet daily in this film.
I decided to keep notes after
each failed attempt, and well, eventually I found myself 50 dates deep with
nothing to show forth but this blog so I guess it wasn’t a total loss…
50 Worst Dates.
Has hair
system (aka a toupee glued to his head). Complains about women false
advertising in their pictures.
Has six
roommates. Is 35.
Asks if I want
to see a picture of his dog. Shows me a picture of his penis instead.
Suggests we
go to a fancy cocktail bar. Drills bartender relentlessly as to why they don't
have High Life.
Shows up
hammered to date. It’s 7 pm on a Tuesday.
Declares
himself a "sociopath" but “in a good way.”
Profile says
5'11". Is 5'6" (in heels). Wines about my recent haircut not being
the same as my pictures.
Talks about
how much I remind him of his ex. "That worthless bitch."
Brings his
buddy on date to confirm I am not crazy.
Profile picture
is a gym selfie. Shows up looking like he ate his former self.
Suggests
(based on venue) I dress to the 9s. Shows up in (mystery) stained sweatpants.
Asks me how
I feel about kids because he wants "a solid dozen."
Tells me if
I ever want any kind of commitment from him, I would have to have three or
foursomes. Girls only.
Asks me if I
want to "get outta here" aka head back to his place during the
appetizer.
Broke up
with his girlfriend of two years on Tuesday. Felt it was time to get back out
there, on Friday.
Orders a
round of shots. When I explain I work in the morning and can't do any shots, he
does both. Orders two more.
Refers to
himself in the third person multiple times.
Tries to
convince me during dinner that humans only need to eat once a day, and I was
being gluttonous by having my *gasp* third meal that day.
Talks about
his summer home and how he can’t wait to take me there. (It’s December.) Ends
same conversation with he’s “not looking for anything serious.”
Asks me if I
keep everything groomed as nice as my eyebrows.
Tells the
waitress since I have a leather handbag I can afford to cover the bill.
Orders
dessert to share, tells me I am allowed two bites so I don’t let myself go.
Asks me about
my family. I mention I have a sister. Asks me if she’s hot. More than once.
Flirts with
hostess. And waitress. And girls at next table. Claims he is just friendly as
he passes out his business card to only females skipping their male company.
Tells me I
have beautiful breasts and he would like to paint them “Titanic style.”
Kisses me on
the cheek each time he gets up to use the bathroom, which is seven times in two
hours. Each kiss gets longer.
Talks about
his love of hunting. Casually mentions how it would be fun if he could hunt
people.
Continues on
about how much his mom loved his ex, and how she would never ever accept me.
EVER.
Asks me if I
want to try out a fancy new Italian restaurant. It was Olive Garden, and I was
overdressed.
Tells me I
look really good naked because he has been undressing me in his mind all night,
and he can tell.
Puts bar’s
salt shaker in his pocket because his has been missing.
Suggests we
go get matching tattoos because he knows I am the one, ten minutes into our
first date.
Informs me
he scoured my blog but couldn’t find any information on my stance regarding
anal. Precedes to ask me my stance.
Asks me to
cover the bill because he’s saving up for a PlayStation 4.
After dinner
suggests we go get ice-cream so he can “watch me eat it.”
During a
good night kiss, he pulls away to tell me I am good kisser...just like his
girlfriend.
Asks me how
I feel about recreational drug use. Confirms he smokes “a little meth.”
Interrogates
me regarding how many men I have slept with because anything more than five for
a woman is “disgusting.”
Inquiries
about what his chances are of seeing “dat ass” later.
Leaves the
waitress a seven percent tip because “a monkey could do her job.”
When I decline
the offer to go back to his place, he points out that he paid the tab SO (with
a nudge nudge wink wink).
Has three
tattoos of girl’s names. All different.
Responds to a
Tinder message mid conversation (before we even order).
Profile says
“entrepreneur.” Actually is unemployed.
Gets up to
order our drinks. Watch him intensely smell a girl’s hair sitting at bar.
Uses the
phrases “on fleek” and “swag” multiple times in conversation. Is 33.
Takes a
phone call for 15 minutes, at the table, during dinner, in a quiet restaurant.
Run into
(male) friend at bar. Introduce date to said friend. Date aggressively interrogates
me as to whether or not I had sex with said friend. In front of said friend.
Eats French
Fries one by one with a fork and knife by slicing them, very slowly, lengthwise.
While
nervously playing with my ring, it falls to floor. He retrieves it from under
table and licks my leg on the way up.
What a time
to be alive!
