BRIDGET LEMLEY
KENNESAW, GA
AGE: 24

THIS GUY HAD SENT ME MESSAGES ABOUT HIS ATTENDANCE AT CHURCH-SO, I WAS UNDER THE IMPRESSION HE WAS "RELIGIOUS". HE IS A GUY WHO BELIEVES “NICE GUYS DO FINISH FIRST.” HOWEVER, HERE ARE THE FOLLOWING REASONS WHY OUR DATE SUCKED AND WHY HE’LL BE SINGLE FOR THE REST OF HIS LIFE!

1. HE SAID MY SHOES WERE “UGLY” (THEY WERE CLASSIC NEW BALANCE-TO EACH HIS OWN, I GUESS)
2. HE CALLED ME A “NERD” AND A “DORK” (MORE THAN ONCE) IN A "FLIRTATIOUS" WAY
3. HE WORE A HAT ON A FIRST DATE
4. HE SUGGESTED WE SEE ALEXANDER—A 3 HOUR LONG EPIC WITH HOMOEROTIC IMAGES AND INCESTUOUS OVERTONES
5. WE SAW CHRISTMAS WITH THE KRANKS INSTEAD
6. HE SQUEEZED MY LEG DURING INAPPROPRIATE TIMES OF THE MOVIE
7. YEA, OK, THE FACT THAT HE SQUEEZED MY LEG AT ALL. LOGICALLY, HE MUST HAVE KNOWN IT WAS A BAD MOVE-BUT IT’S LIKE HE DIDN’T HAVE THE RESTRAINT TO NOT TO DO IT
8. WHEN HE WAS COMMITTING NO. 6 AND NO. 7, HE WAS REALLY AWKWARD
9. HE JUST RANDOMLY GRABBED MY CLENCHED HAND AND KISSED IT
10. I GOT A CRAMP IN MY SIDE TRYING TO LEAN AS FAR AWAY AS POSSIBLE FROM HIM
11. HE FLICKED MY SHOULDER WITH HIS FINGER—KIND OF HARD
12. SOMETIMES I IMAGINED THAT AFTER HE TOUCHED ME HE LEFT SOME GREEN SLIME RESIDUE & THAT MADE ME NOT CONCENTRATE ON THE MOVIE AND HAVE TO THINK ABOUT HIM
13. HE WOULDN’T STOP TALKING DURING THE PREVIEWS
14. HE WOULDN’T STOP TALKING DURING THE MOVIE
15. HE WOULDN’T SHUT UP EVER
16. HE ASKED THE FOLLOWING STUPID QUESTIONS
-WHY DO YOU SMILE SO MUCH?
-ARE YOU AND YOUR FRIEND BI?
-WHY DON’T YOU LOOK AT ME WHEN I TALK TO YOU?
17. HE PUT HIS HAND ON MY HEAD TO TURN MY HEAD SO I COULD LOOK AT HIM WHEN HE TALKED TO ME
18. HE MADE THE MOVE TO HOLD MY HAND (AND GOT DENIED)
19. HIS PROFILE NAME IS AFTER HIS FAVORITE BASKETBALL PLAYER THAT HE’LL NEVER BE LIKE B/C HE’S TOO SHORT
20. HE GOT ALL PHILOSOPHICAL ON ME AND SAID I SHOULD BE WITH HIM B/C I COULD BALANCE OUT HIS LOVE FOR SPORTS WITH MY APATHY TOWARDS SPORTS (AND HE DIDN’T USE THE WORD APATHY, I HAD TO USE CONTEXT CLUES TO FIGURE OUT WHAT HE WAS REALLY TRYING TO SAY)
21. AMONG THE MANY TIMES TOUCHING ME, HE “ACCIDENTALLY” BRUSHED UP AGAINST MY CHEST
22. SOMETIMES HE LOOKED LIKE HE HAD DOWN’S SYNDROME WHEN HE TALKED TO ME
23. HE FOUND IT INFORMATIVE TO TELL ME THAT HE IS 28 AND LIVES WITH HIS PARENTS
24. I HAD MORE FUN GOING TO THE RESTROOM-WHEN I WENT, SOME GUYS I KNEW FROM THE GYM HIT ON ME

I JUST STOPPED LISTENING TO HIS STUPID, GENERIC STORIES SO SORRY I DON’T HAVE MORE. THE REST OF THE INANE THINGS THAT HAPPENED ARE HOPEFULLY FOREVER BLOCKED FROM MY MEMORY. I MEAN, GOING TO A MOVIE SHOULD NEVER BE LIKE GOING TO THE DOCTOR (AS IN THE SOONER IT’S OVER THE BETTER).

DATE 2—I HAD AN INKLING THAT YOU WERE AS IRRITATING AS H-E-DOUBLE-HOCKEY-STICKS, SO I APOLOGIZE FOR WASTING OUR TIME. YOU TRIED SO HARD TO AFFIRM YOUR MASCULINITY TO ME THAT I’M SURE YOU’LL COME OUT OF THE CLOSET SOMEDAY. UNTIL THEN, DON’T GROPE GIRLS ON THE 1ST DATE—WAIT TILL THE 2ND. AND MAKE SURE THEY LIKE YOU IN THE FIRST PLACE BEFORE YOU BRING OUT YOUR “MAGIC HANDS.” IF YOU WERE TRYING TO HIDE YOUR PERSONALITY FLAWS, GET A NEW SHTICK—B/C THE ONE YOUR CURRENTLY UTILIZING, IT AINT WORKING. SO AS ANNE SEXTON SAYS, “WHAT YOU ARE YOU WILL FIND.”

KATE
LOS ANGELES, CA
AGE: 31

LET ME START BY SAYING THAT WHILE THIS TOPS THE LIST OF BEST WORST DATE EXPERIENCES, I AM NOT SO SURE IT WAS MY WORST DATE. I AM ALMOST POSITIVE THAT IT WAS HIS. IN FACT, IF HE WERE TO SUBMIT HIS OWN STORY, I AM SURE THIS WOULD MAKE THE CUT. HOWEVER, CALLING IT A "DATE" IS SOMEWHAT OF A STRETCH, BUT HEY, WE STRETCH THE DEFINITION OF "DATE" HERE IN LOS ANGELES. IT STARTED LIKE SO MANY OTHER "DATES" THAT MANY OF US SINGLE LADIES HAVE GONE ON. TRANSLATION: IT STARTED OFF AS A GIRLS' NIGHT AND SOMEHOW I ENDED UP ON A "DATE" WITH A MAN. AFTER A LOVELY AFTERNOON OF WINE AND LAUGHTER AND GOOD FOOD AND EVEN BETTER SHOPPING, MY GIRLFRIENDS AND I DECIDED THAT A NIGHTCAP WAS IN ORDER. SO, WE SADDLED UP TO A NICE BAR IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD AND CONTINUED THE FUN. AT THIS POINT, THE BAR WASN'T CROWDED, SO WE WERE ABLE TO MAKE A LOT OF SMALL TALK WITH THE CUTE BARTENDER. LET'S JUST CALL HIM BOB, AS WE SHOULD TRY TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT HERE. BOB WAS GENEROUS WITH THE TALK, GENEROUS WITH THE SMILES AND GENEROUS WITH THE RED WINE THAT HE KEPT POURING INTO MY GLASS. THE HOURS GO BY, THE LAUGHTER GETS MORE FREQUENT AND MUCH LOUDER, THE CROWD GROWS, AND BEFORE YOU KNOW IT, I AM COMPLETELY SHITFACED. SO DRUNK THAT I CAN BARELY WALK. SO DRUNK THAT I HAVE ALSO HIT THE STAGE THAT MANY OF MY FRIENDS ARE FAMILIAR WITH. SOMEWHERE ALONG THE WAY, THE ALCOHOL TURNS MY LAUGHTER INTO TEARS, AND THEN THE TEARS TURN INTO MORE LAUGHTER BECAUSE I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I AM CRYING ABOUT. AT SOME POINT, BOB AND I HAVE SWAPPED NUMBERS, TALKED ABOUT SEEING EACH OTHER; I HAVE FALLEN OFF A BAR STOOL AND CONSUMED A RIDICULOUS AMOUNT OF WINE, WHICH HAS ONLY COST ME $10. SO, IN A CLASSY AND OH SO SUBTLE WAY, I PROMISE BOB A "BIG TIP" TO MAKE UP FOR HOW NICE HE HAS BEEN TO ME. THE GIRLS AND I HEAD HOME, WE STAY UP A WHILE AND LISTEN TO MUSIC, LAUGH ABOUT THE NIGHT, AND THEY THEN MAKE THE POOR DECISIONT TO LEAVE ME TO MY OWN DEVICES. THIS AFTER THEY HAVE TOLD ME THAT BOB IS ON HIS WAY (BECAUSE BOB AND I HAVE TALKED ON OUR CELL PHONES THE ENTIRE WAY HOME AND WE HAVE PLANNED THIS) AND I HAVE ADAMANTLY TOLD THEM THERE IS NO WAY BOB IS COMING OVER. BAD IDEA TO LEAVE ME ALONE, THAT'S ALL I CAN SAY. POOR BOB'S NIGHT IS REALLY THEIR FAULT. AS AN INTERESTING SIDE NOTE, I HADN'T BEEN BACK IN THE FIELD FOR THAT LONG. MY HUSBAND HAD DIED TRAGICALLY ALMOST 3 YEARS BEFORE AND MY NEXT BOYFRIEND HAD LITERALLY JUST FALLEN OFF THE FACE OF THE EARTH A FEW MONTHS BEFORE, AFTER A LITTLE MORE THAN A YEAR TOGETHER. SUPPOSEDLY TOOK A JOB WITH THE CIA, IN THE COUNTER TERRORISM DIVISION. YEAH, I BOUGHT THAT LINE. WIDOWS ARE EASY THAT WAY. SO, BOB COMES OVER, AND IN AN EVEN BETTER ATTEMPT AT PLAYING HARD TO GET, WE START MAKING OUT. I DON'T REMEMBER IF IT'S GOOD OR BAD. I HAVE TO THINK BAD, JUST BECAUSE I WAS WAY TOO DRUNK TO BE MAKING OUT. PROOF POSITIVE OF THIS IS THAT AS I AM LITERALLY STARTING TO PROVE THE POINT THAT IF YOU PUT OUT EARLY, YOU WILL NEVER HEAR FROM THE GUY AGAIN, I START CRYING. SOBBING, SHAKING AND SOBBING, HYPERVENTILATING AND SAYING THINGS LIKE "I AM SO SORRY, YOU HAVE TO GO. I CAN'T DO THIS. I SHOULDN'T DO THIS. MY HUSBAND'S DEAD. MY BOYFRIEND LEFT TO JOIN THE CIA, I JUST CAN'T DO THIS. YOU SHOULDN'T BE WITH ME. I'M A MESS (REALLY? HE NEVER WOULD HAVE GUESSED THAT)" YOU CAN'T EVEN UNDERSTAND HALF OF WHAT I AM SAYING BECAUSE I AM SOBBING SO HARD. HERE IS WHERE BOB MADE A FATAL ERROR. INSTEAD OF PUTTING HIS CLOTHES BACK ON AND RUNNING FOR THE EXIT(FORGET THE CLOTHES EVEN, HE SHOULD HAVE RUN FOR THE DOOR AND NOT LOOKED BACK), HE HUGS ME. HE THEN TELLS ME WHY HE FEELS FOR ME; HOW HE UNDERSTANDS PAIN AND LOSS AND THEN SHARES ALL SORTS OF SORDID FAMILY DETAILS THAT I WON'T GO INTO. AT SOME POINT, WHILE LISTENING TO HIM TRY TO COMFORT ME, THE NIGHTMARE GIRL, I PASS OUT. A FEW HOURS LATER, AS MORNING LATE IS FILTERING THROUGH THE BLINDS, I OPEN ONE EYE TO SEE CLOTHES FLUNG EVERYWHERE. THE ROOM IS SPINNING; MY HEAD IS ACHING, AND BOB IS JUST SNOOZING. SO I SNEAK INTO THE LIVING ROON AND CALL MY GIRLFRIEND AND TELL HER SHE HAS TO GET OVER TO MY PLACE RIGHT NOW. BOB WAKES UP AND HE'S NICE STILL. HE HAS NO REASON TO BE NICE AND MORE REASON NOT TO STAY, BUT HE WANTS TO HAVE A FULL CONVERSATION. A FULL CONVERSATION THAT STARTS WITH "WHAT DO YOU REMEMBER ABOUT LAST NIGHT?" AS IF THE EMOTIONAL PURGE OF UNRESOLVED SHIT IS SO EASY TO FORGET. I APOLOGIZE AND TELL HIM THAT I AM EMBARASSED, I DON'T DO THESE SORTS OF THINGS, I AM A NICE GIRL AND IT WAS JUST A BAD NIGHT OF TOO MUCH DRINKING. AND THEN HE TELLS ME HE USUALLY DOESN'T COME HOME WITH THE GIRLS HE MEETS AT THE BAR. THAT ONE WAS A LITTLE HARDER TO BELIEVE. SO WE ARE BOTH TRYING TO CONVINCE EACH OTHER THAT WE ARE'T TOTAL SLUTS (AND I AM SURE THAT I AM THE ONLY ONE TELLING THE TRUTH AT THIS POINT) AND I TELL HIM THAT I HAVE TO GO FOR A RUN, AS I AM TRAINING FOR THE LA MARATHON. AND HE RESPONDED WITH "YEAH, I HAVE TRAINING TO DO TODAY TOO." "REALLY, WHAT ARE YOU TRAINING FOR? (SAID WHILE TRYING NOT TO PUKE UP 5 LITERS OF RED WINE)" "I AM A PROFESSIONAL KNIFE THROWER, YEAH, THERE'S A CIRCUIT AND I WORK AT THE BAR TO PAY FOR MY TRAVEL TO ALL THE COMPETITIONS". PROFESSIONAL KNIFE THROWER?? AS I PICTURE MYSELF STANDING AGAINST A BOARD, WITH AN APPLE ON MY HEAD, AND HIM THROWING KNIVES AT ME, HE TELLS ME THAT HE HAS BEEN DOING IT A LONG TIME; HE HAS WON QUITE A FEW COMPETITIONS, AND IT'S REALLY ONE OF THE LOVES OF THIS LIFE. WELL, AT LEAST HE'S NOT AN ACTOR. BUT I CAN'T HELP THINK THAT I HAVE LET A STRANGE MAN, WHO IS PROFICIENT WITH KNIVES, INTO MY APARTMENT. PROBABLY NOT THE SMARTEST SINGLE GIRL LIVING ALONE MOVE EVER. AT THIS POINT, I KNOW THAT I AM GOING TO BE SICK, AND I REALLY NEED HIM OUT OF MY APARTMENT. HOWEVER, I DON'T WANT TO BE RUDE, SO I AM JUST PUSHING THE "MY FRIEND IS COMING OVER TO PICK ME UP, BLAH BLAH" AND HE FINALLY GETS UP. HE TELL ME THAT HE HAS TO GO ANYWAY BECAUSE HE IS AUDITIONING TO BE A CORPSE ON CSI. SO HE IS AN ACTOR. A BARTENDING, KNIFE THROWING, COMPETITION WINNING, ACTOR. WHO, TO GIVE HIM A LOT OF CREDIT, HAS PUT UP WITH MY CRAP ALL NIGHT. AFTER HE LEFT, I GOOGLE'D HIM, AND SURE ENOUGH, BOB IS ALL OVER THE KNIFE THROWING CIRCUIT AND DOING QUITE WELL. I KNOW IT'S PROBABLY A SHOCK TO ALL OF YOU OUT THERE, BUT I NEVER SAW HIM AGAIN. I WILL NEVER KNOW THE JOY OF STANDING NEXT TO HIM AS HE TAKES THE CUP FOR GREATEST DISTANCE AND CLOSEST TARGET THROW. AND BOB PROBABLY COULDN'T BE HAPPIER ABOUT THAT.

TRACY
WEST MONROE, LA
AGE: 32

THIS DATE DIDN'T ACTUALLY MAKE IT TO BEING A DATE....

I HAD BEEN TALKING TO A GUY ONLINE FOR A COUPLE OF MONTHS AND WE DECIDED TO MEET. WELL OF COURSE I DIDN'T WANT TO MEET HIM THE 1ST TIME ALONE, SO I ASKED HIM TO PICK ME UP AT MY FRIENDS HOUSE. SAFTY IN NUMBERS! WELL I KEPT WAITING AND WAITING AND HE NEVER SHOWED OR CALLED. WELL, THE NEXT TIME I GOT ONLINE I HAD AN EMAIL FROM HIM. IT READ, 'SORRY. I PULLED UP AND WAS ABOUT TO GET OUT OF MY TRUCK AND A GUY WITH A MOHAWK CAME OUT THE DOOR.' AT THE TIME MY FRIEND SEAN HAD A MOHAWK AND I NEVER THOUGHT TO EXPLAIN ABOUT HIM. HE IS MY FRIEND AND I DON'T THINK TWICE ABOUT WHAT HE LOOKS LIKE. NEEDLESS TO SAY I NEVER HEARD FROM THE GUY AGAIN.

ASHLEY N
ARKANSAS
AGE: 18

MANY PEOPLE ON HERE TALK OF DATE DISASTERS/MIRACLES THAT ARE DUE TO THE ONLINE DATING WORLD. MINE HAPPENS TO BE YOUR RUN OF THE MILL, BEST FRIENDS FOREVER TURNED LOVERS STORY. THE ONLY TWIST IS, IT WASN'T FOREVER, AND WE AREN'T LOVERS.

I HAD BEEN FRIENDS WITH THIS GUY FOR A FEW YEARS WHEN HE CONFESSED THAT HE WAS ATTRACTED TO ME. I THOUGHT HE WAS CUTE AND WANTED TO SEE WHERE THINGS WENT, SO I SAID SURE. WE WENT TO A NICE RESTAURANT THEN WENT TO HIS HOUSE TO WATCH MOVIES. WE WERE ON THE COUCH CUDDLING WHEN HE KISSED ME. IT WASN'T TOO BAD, TOO MUCH TONGUE, BUT I COULD DEAL. THEN HE STARTED MAKING MOVES ON ME, AND I STARTED LAUGHING-LOUDLY. I WASN'T TRYING TO BE RUDE, BUT I'M EXTREMELY TICKLISH AND I JUST WASN'T INTO IT. I BEGAN DOUBLING OVER WITH LAUGHTER, SO HE STOPPED, NEARLY DROPPED HIS JAW AND STARED AT ME. NEEDLESS TO SAY, THERE WERE NO MORE DATES FOR US.

SARAH
LOS ANGELES, CA
AGE: 28

MY EX BROKE UP WITH ME ON A POST-IT. IT WAS ACTUALLY A LITTLE LARGER THAN A POST-IT, BUT HE WROTE ME A LETTER STATING THAT HIS EX-GIRLFRIEND HAD JUST RETURNED FROM EUROPE AND SHE WANTED TO GET BACK TOGETHER. AND HE FELT LIKE HE SHOULD GIVE IT ANOTHER TRY. WELL, WE WERE STILL IN COLLEGE AT THE TIME AND RIGHT BEFORE CLASS HE DROPPED IT ON MY DESK AND SAID "CALL ME LATER IF YOU WANT TO TALK". WE WERE 27 YEARS OLD AT THE TIME. I READ IT NOT KNOWING WHAT IT SAID AND WAS, OF COURSE, UPSET. I DIDN'T SPEAK TO HIM NOR CALL HIM. WELL, WE ARE FILMMAKERS AND WE HAD A SHOOT THE NEXT WEEK AND HE WAS MY ASSISTANT DIRECTOR. I WAS VERY PROFESSIONAL AND COURTEOUS TO HIM ON SET AND IT KILLED HIM. I WAS SO PROUD OF MYSELF BUT THEN WHEN WE WRAPPED FOR THE DAY AND I WAS DRIVING HOME HE CALLED. I ANSWER MY PHONE, "WHAT?" HE SAYS TO ME THAT HE STAYED UP FOR HOURS TRYING TO WRITE THAT LETTER TO ME TRYING TO FIND SOME WAY TO BREAK UP WITH ME. THEN PROCEEDS TO TELL ME THAT IT WAS COMPLETELY FABRICATED, NONE OF IT WAS TRUE AND THAT HE HAD MADE A MISTAKE AND WANTED ME BACK. I HAD NO ANSWER BUT HE TALKED ME INTO HAVING DINNER WITH HIM AND THINGS KIND OF WENT BACK TO BEING THE WAY THEY WERE. I FIGURED HOW COULD I DISMISS HIM FOR BEING SCARED BUT I SHOULD HAVE LISTENED TO MY HEAD INSTEAD OF MY HEART.

SO A YEAR LATER, THINGS HAVE BEEN NORMAL, UP AND DOWN, CONFLICTING SCHEDULES AND SUCH, BUT I'M IN LOVE WITH HIM AT THIS POINT, MY FIRST EVER. AND HE HAD TOLD ME THE SAME. WE HAD TAPED OURSELVES HAVING SEX A FEW TIMES, JUST FOR US, WE NEVER BROADCAST IT TO ANYONE. BUT IT WAS A SPECIFIC CAMERA, HI-8, SO YOU NEED THE CAMERA TO WATCH THE TAPES. I ASKED HIM TO BORROW THE CAMERA SO I COULD WATCH THE TAPES ONE NIGHT. AND HE GAVE IT TO ME, I TOOK IT HOME, AND A FEW DAYS LATER DECIDED TO WATCH OUR TAPES. THERE WAS ALREADY A TAPE IN THE CAMERA AND WITHOUT EVEN REALLY THINKING ABOUT IT I PLAYED IT TO SEE WHAT IT WAS. IT WAS HIM HAVING SEX WITH ANOTHER WOMAN, MIND YOU SHE LOOKED JUST LIKE ME, AND SHE DIDN'T KNOW SHE WAS BEING TAPED. WELL THE CAMERA DATED THE TAPE, WHICH HAPPENED TO BE MONTH EARLIER WHEN I HAD GONE TO ARIZONA TO HELP ONE OF HIS FRIENDS MOVE. BUSTED. WORST PART ABOUT IT WAS THAT I FORCED MYSELF TO WATCH THE ENTIRE TAPE IN WHICH I FOUND OUT HE DIDN'T USE A CONDOM. I CALLED HIM ON IT, HE FREAKED OUT, KEPT CALLING AND TEXTING, COMING OVER TO MY APARTMENT.

ME, BEING THE STUPID GIRL I APPARENTLY AM, LET HIM BACK INTO MY LIFE ONCE AGAIN, THINGS WERE OF COURSE GREAT UNTIL A FEW MONTHS LATER HE DECIDES TO TELL ME THAT HE ISN'T READY TO BE WITH ONE WOMEN AND THAT ITS NOT FAIR TO ME NOR HIM TO BE UNDER THAT PRESSURE. SO I TRIED TO RESPECT THAT BUT TOLD HIM THAT WE HAD TO HAVE A CLEAN BREAK, NO SPEAKING TO EACH OTHER OR DRUNK DIALING OR BOOTY CALLS. HE AGREED. AT THE END OF THE SUMMER I WENT TO NYC TO VISIT MY GIRLFRIENDS FROM COLLEGE. THE FIRST NIGHT I WAS THERE, WE OF COURSE WENT OUT FOR GIRLS NIGHT, SHITFACED, WE WALK INTO A BAR IN SOHO AND THERE HE SITS WITH SOME OF OUR FRIENDS FROM LA. WHAT ARE THE CHANCES THAT I RUN INTO HIM IN SOME RANDOM WATERING HOLE IN NYC? SLIM, RIGHT? THAT'S KARMA FOR YOU. SO I KEPT MY COOL, AS DID HE, BUT IT BECAME UNCOMFORTABLE SO HE LEFT AND HIS FRIENDS STAYED BEHIND. I CAME TO FIND OUT WHY IT WAS SO UNCOMFORTABLE. I STAGGERED OVER TO OUR FRIENDS AFTER HE LEFT TO SAY HELLO. THEY PROCEEDED TO TELL ME THAT HE WAS MOVING IN WITH HIS GIRLFRIEND. WHAT GIRLFRIEND? BARELY SIX MONTHS AFTER ME? SO MUCH FOR NOT BEING READY TO BE WITH ONE WOMAN AFTER I TOTALLY HAD RESPECT FOR THAT. SO, I WAS DEVASTATED, WALKED OUT OF THE BAR AND PUNCHED A WALL WHICH TURNED OUT TO BE BRICK AND BROKE MY HAND. I STILL HAVE THE CAST ON MY HAND. I AM STILL IN THERAPY TO THIS VERY DAY. I STILL CRY MYSELF TO SLEEP AT NIGHT.

Mari
Plantation, FL
Age: 47

I had been having a wonderful phone relationship with another woman I'll call Sue. She lived in New Jersey; I lived in Manhattan. The conversation flowed; we connected. Finally, we decided to meet in person. I schlepped to stinky Port Authority bus station and caught a bus to I think it was something like "Weehawken" or "Metuchen" or some other Indian-named place we'd colonized a couple of hundred years ago. The plan was she'd pick me up at the bus station in Jersey and she'd pack a picnic basket and we'd have lunch somewhere outdoors (preferably not near the landfill or toxic waste dumps). Sounds lovely for a first date (except it being in Jersey). We had given one another cues to recognize each other. Forget what it was now. So she picked me up, I got in her car and we started talking. About 8 minutes into the ride and the conversation she mentions, in passing, oh so briefly, "When I was in the institution..." Now, I work with mentally ill people and have for years. Part of my brain heard "institution" and glossed over it. Another part literally saw red. Warning! Warning! I began paying very very close attention to what she was saying, the gist of which was that she had just been released from the funny farm (I know it's not PC but I'm a shrink and it's funny to ME), and was looking for love now that she was out. I squirmed & squirmed. Then I asked her to take me back to the bus station. She did. I took a bus back to the city. The bus smelled like vomit. When I got home I wrote a poem about the experience. It was accepted by a prestigious literary magazine and published. So there are always silver linings to even the scariest/worst dates!

Eric Baum
NYC
Age: 34

Ok, this is the worst: A few years back an Intenet date agreed to meet me for a drink at a local cafe.

She seemed a little distant and guarded until her cell phone rang an hour after we sat down at 7:30 p.m.

After a few minutes of chatting she hung up and said a friend agreed to be her "back up plan" and call an hour into the date.

Not knowing if things would go well between us she made plans to cut our first date short and meet her "back up plan" at 9 p.m.

Things actually went better than expeced. She said she liked me and invited me to come along and meet her friend, who had a table reserved at a Lower East Side bar.

By this time I felt as if my life had become a David Sedaris story and I agreed to participate in the second unplanned leg of our first date.

Her friend was waiting for us in a booth shaped like a large wine keg. He wore all black and greeted her with a kiss.

I got a weak handshake and very insincere smile. They had been friends for years, he explanined, and then the two of them started a very private and intimate conversatatino which lasted for about two hours.

Having had enough I excused myself to go home, leaving them at bar. This may not have been the worst date I've ever experienced but for some reason it stands out.

katie schwartz
los angeles, CA
Age: 33

My preliminary dating experience on, Who-The-Fuck-Cares-What-Mainstream-Dating-Site-I-was-on; was comprised of a 12 step fool who said, If you want to date me, you need to be in Alanon. That’s before asking me my name.

What if I had a fat, guttural name, like, Sally? There are certain names I won’t date, like, Craig’s, Greg’s, Earl’s, Berle’s, Lester’s or Chester’s. Isn’t it obvious why?

Evidently, not to mister, Work your program. All he cared about was my willingness to schlep up steps for him. I’m sorry, but learning how not to be co-dependent to the recovering addict just isn’t enough of a perk for me. I want a free gift with purchase and something far more substantial than behavior modification.

Hot on his heels was a disturbed OBGYN whose idea of foreplay was to describe his job as, “Ewww, disgusting.” As if that weren’t creepy enough, ol’ gynolicious spent the next 30 seconds saying, “Oh, Katie, Katie, when are we having a baby.” “Katie, Katie, you are my new lady.” “Do you love me yet, Katie.”

I blocked his ass faster than a hooker turns a trick!

I was desperate to delete my profile, but decided I’d give it one more go, and boy was I glad I did. I got an introductory email from a man who wished to be called, Captain Thunder. I don’t know what bothered me the most about his intro, the fact that he wore high heels, or that he bought them at Payless. And quite frankly, reading the minutia details of ass fucking him with a strap on while he wears a superhero costume and stilettos; struck me as, oh, I don’t know, a little too tepid for an introduction.

The real prize was yet to come. His name was Vinnie. His hobbies included smelling his own feet at the end of a hard day gutting fish, eating cherries jubilee on Sundays, not killing the mother of his child, playing X-Box and seeing how many hours he could log consecutively on AIM with his T-Mobile Side Kick.

A few months later I decided to try Craigslist. My inbox was filled with all sorts of promising mail. The yellow lion, an Asian chap whose snappy prose promised to take me to the Candy Shop with his Pimp, Thug Life tongue. Blake, the ex-con, now gainfully employed with Quizno’s, put his cards right on the table, “Been ten-years since I got me some. Need a lady friend. Stop by Quizno’s and say hi. There’s a free meal in it for you if we click.” The most intriguing of this brood, I affectionately nicknamed, the little stem cell that could. He bore a striking resemblance to that generic sci-fi image of a clone gone awry. He promised weekends filled with shopping sprees to Ikea and romantic dinners at the Olive Garden, all in his hometown of West Covina, conveniently located at the Fashion Exit off the 10.

Could this get any more futile? I was incapable of manifesting someone even teetering, slightly the stratosphere of normal.

Because my self-esteem was merely wallowing, I logged back onto, Like-It-Really-Fucking-Matters.com so my self-esteem could truly plummet and burn.

And it SUPER did!

Let me just preface all of this by saying, I am well aware of my shortcomings and freely discuss them. The twin hangers, the silicon free lips, the flat Jew ass, the chubby body and the painfully obsessive, neurotic, aloof, push, pull mind whose favorite pastime is jumping to conclusions. But that’s only when I’m not second guessing, or berating myself.

I quickly learned that every male personal ad offers up a tall glass of zero personality flaws with a twist of utopian companionship.

There are three types of men online. Adjective boy, who opens with, “Not your typical LA-guy.” He’s a thinking artisan, massage therapist, painter, sculptor, computer parts salesman, screenwriter, director and finally, holistic healer. But his real passion is music. He’s got a ditty to spin for his new honey and a black and white photo of his pensive self strumming his acoustical guitar to prove it!

Than there’s the angry man child who italicizes his thirst for sensuous soul connecting walks along the beach, the desire to build and share a quiet life together predicated on trust and intimacy. He takes his time to spell out his long list of values. Yet he capitalizes, “Me: 40s, VGL, 6ft, 190 lbs., in shape. You: stacked. Under 25. 95 pounds. 5’3. Available when I call and seeking the perks of a benefactor.” God forbid the schizophrenic’s pussy grows one follicle of hair, or worse, loses it’s pretty in pink elasticity.

The third type of man would be a wolf in sheep’s clothing because I’m interested enough to respond to his fucking ad.

Things were trucking along with wolf #1. He was 36, easy on the eyes and bright enough to keep pace in conversation. I was fascinated by the fact that he had been at the same job for 17-years with plans to retire there. He was an operations manager with an airline. His stories were about as exciting as visualizing Carl Rove on all fours wailing, "I'm Cumming, Bush. I'm Cumming." But I was obsessed with his big airline pride. Not cock- Actual pride. We agreed to meet in a well lit public restaurant. As I approached, this tall, 8 month pregnant looking man bounded over to me, sporting a layered tooth grin and wearing an inappropriately massive gold and onyx mall ring on his right finger. Surprise! That was him. He was actually 50 with a turrets eye twitch and a corn fed face. He thought sending me that fabulous bronzed photo of himself when he was 25 would be funny.

Wolf #2 was a smart, witty, clever boy, who loved to dine at the Y. My wonderful friend, Joy found him for me. Within a week, the chemistry was so hot; my vulva lips were twitching like a country crickets.

As week two fast approached, he asked me if I’d like to meet him for coffee at King’s Road. I was convinced this wolf could ravage the flames of my body and leave me limp as a willow on a humid summer day. I was going!

We agreed to meet in front. He said he’d be the one pacing with a limp. I said, “If you’re injured, we can hook up another time. No problem.”

So, he says to me, “Oh, no, I’m not injured. I’m missing a leg and my prosthesis makes me limp.”

Funny! He had no problem telling me he was in recovery for some rehab centric addiction; and PS, when did I become the poster child for 12-step dating?! Or about his father’s brother’s son molesting him when he was 10, or about his dysfunctional relationship with his sister. But somehow he forgot tell me that he was missing an entire LIMB?! Not a digit. Not half a leg, but a full and complete leg, from groin to toe.

Of course I overreacted. Who wouldn’t?! The limbless wonder felt I was being an irrational bitch! And I have since closed my legs for business.

bora
seattle, wa
Age: 20

ok...so i'm not a newbie to the internet dating world, and my favorite site to post on is craigslist. word. anyways, i had just been dumped by this british nerd who had asked me to go to the new star wars movie on opening night. i said yes, i made dinner, took it to his place, and he never opened the door. i called several times that night but no answer, and i havent heard from him since. but wait, that's not the worst date story, that's just the start.

i was pissed off. and i wanted to go watch the movie, since, i am, and we do exist boys, a star wars fanatic. well i went home, i posted an ad on craigslist and went looking for a guy to go with. low and behold, i found him. he was nice, he was into star wars, and he was willing to pay for dinner since i had already bought the tickets. so i said, "ok. pick me up at my house."

my date drives over, problem #1, he couldnt find my house. so i walked 1/2 a mile (in heels) to the nearest landmark for him to pick me up at.

problem #2. he was drugged up. his eyes were glazed over, he slurred his words, and he walked really slow. at first i thought, maybe he's a pot head, could be high, i'm ok with that. but when i asked him, he got all offended and snapped at me, told me he had slipped a disc and was on medication. wow. ok. no need to bite my head off!

problem #3. i dont eat fast food. supersize me turned me off. and this guy wanted to have mcdonalds for dinner, i refused and said there was a nice sushi place really close to my house. so we went there. we sit down, i order spicy tuna rolls, he orders yakisoba/chicken teriyaki. ok. so we made small talk. he was rather boring, didn't have much to talk about other than his new car and his addiction to his meds. i asked him if he wanted to try my spicy tuna, he says ok. pops one in his mouth, chews on it, and spits it out on his plate. told me i was a freak for liking raw fish and quickly finished his chicken.

problem #4...remember when i said that we had agreed to split the cost of the whole date? i get the movie and he gets dinner? well the check came, and we had about 15 mins to get to the theater, and he gets up and walks to the bathroom. i mean. the check was only for $30, if he wanted me to pay my half and he asked, i woulvd've payed my half. but no! the asshat got up and left me with the check. so i plopped down $40 for time's sake and went out to the car.

problem #5...we get to the theater, he says, "i dont feel like star wars. lets watch something else." and i'm like "omfg...what is this fool thinking? we agreed on star wars!" and yet again, for time and my health's sake, i gave in, let him pick a movie, unleashed. a sorry waste of my time and money.

problem #6. after the movie was over, i was not in the mood to keep up this date with this man any longer, i asked him to take me home. well he insisted that he wanted to talk. so we pulled into the parking lot of my old high school. he turns off the car, and leans over for a kiss! after all the shit he put me through he wanted some action! so of course, since all women are evil little bitches, i let him kiss my neck, i let him explore me. i told him we should move into the back seat, i manuevered myself into a position that i new his back couldnt stand (remember he had slipped a disc? i probably should've told you that i'm a chiropractic receptionist/yoga practiser so i knew things and postions he didnt)few seconds later, he hurts his back, cant move, i slip out from under him, and tell him to go and *uck himself. i walked home, end of the night, i thought i'd never hear from him again.

i was wrong, he wrote to me and asked if i wanted to go out again. oy vey.