Bad Date Hall Of Fame: The Drunk Dirty Talker
Bad dates suck. But letâ€™s face it, after a certain length of time, they can be pretty funny in retrospect. In honor of the grand tradition of laughing uproariously at disastrous dates, weâ€™re taking submissions for The Bad Date Hall Of Fame. Send yours to [email protected] â€“ and if we publish yours, weâ€™ll send you a pair of Frisky underpants. After the jump, a bad date shows up wasted, doesn’t pay for his BLT-dinner, and engages in weird pedophile dirty talk. Not A Little Girl, Santa Cruz, CA writes:
I met a guy at a house party in college who hit on me by telling me he thought I had cute toes — I did have a red pedicure. He got my number and called me the next week to go out to dinner. I should have been suspicious that my beer goggles had been on too tight, when he told me he needed to be picked up — “Because I don’t want to pay for gas or insurance on my car. Too expensive!” I showed up to his house in my car, for which I did pay for gas and insurance, and noticed immediately when he got in that he stunk of whiskey. Like, really badly. He told me that we were headed to this restaurant on the pier (I went to college by the beach) — it wasn’t a fancy place at all, but I suspected it would have nice, cool ambiance. Too bad I never got to go in. When we pulled up, he said he was just running in to say hi to some coworkers — we weren’t actually dining at this restaurant. While he popped inside, I sat in the car. A few minutes later, I saw a bunch of people peering out of the window staring in my direction. His coworkers. He told me that they wanted to see what I looked like. Uh. Yeah. Finally we took off for dinner and my date chose the classiest establishment in town — a crappy diner along the highway which makes Denny’s look like a Thomas Keller masterpiece. My date order a sandwich and I ordered soup, which I barely ate, because his drunk ass eating was so disgusting to watch, I lost my appetite. Then he announced he forgot his wallet at home, so I had to pick up the check. Back in the car, we barely made conversation because my lovely date kept kind of passing out. When I dropped him off, he tried to kiss me, slurring in my ear, “Come on, little girl, just one kiss.” Needless to say, I gave him the boot and never saw him again. I also didn’t date for the rest of the freaking school year, I was so traumatized.