• Relationships

Bad Date Hall Of Fame: The Guy With Lots Of Stuff

Bad dates suck. But let’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, we’re taking submissions for The Bad Date Hall Of Fame. Send yours to tips@thefrisky.com – and if we publish yours, we’ll send you a pair of Frisky underpants. After the jump, a bad date keeps his apartment under lockdown — find out what’s he hiding.Whatta Mess, via email writes:
I went on four dates with a guy and on the fourth date is when things went seriously wrong. On each of our previous dates, I had been over-dressed, so when we went out on NYE, I showed up in a long dress but brought a cocktail dress with me if the occasion called for something more glamourous. I showed up early in case I needed to change. I knocked on his door, but he didn’t answer — I could hear moving around inside so I knew he was there. When he finally came to the door and proceeded to squeeze out without me peeking inside, I noticed his clothes were stuck to his wet body and his hair was dripping water – he had gotten dressed without drying off from the shower! He wouldn’t let me in his apartment, but I had decided I wanted to change. He started fighting with me about it, so I said, “Look I’ve been invited to five other parties that I would be happy to attend if you do not let me in your apartment right now.” He warned me that the place was a mess. I was not prepared.

This guy had a hording disorder, that was instantly clear. His place was filled from floor to ceiling with papers, trash bags, empty food containers and soda cans. There was a clean, one-foot path from front door to tv, from tv to bathroom and from bathroom to bedroom. His bathroom had a “black” toilet…that was supposed to be white. His shower had two clean foot print spots where he stood and the rest was black. Knowing he had a serious disorder and that I could scar him emotionally if I reacted badly, I opted to change at a gas station. I finished the very strained evening, smelling like the jack and coke he spilled on me, trying to be festive. He mercifully decided he wasn’t feeling well and wanted me to take him home. We were sitting at a red light in silence when the DJ on the radio counted down to midnight.

He called me almost exactly one year later to tell me he had cleaned his apartment a little every day and it was now perfectly clean. And then he thanked me for being so nice about that night.”

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