My Worst Dates Ever
It’s no secret that I’ve been in the dating game for a while, although I’m on a much-needed hiatus right now. This means I’ve clocked up my fair share of stories. While a typical date usually ranges from good to thoroughly average, there are a number of outstandingly terrible ones I like to remind myself of whenever I’m feeling blue. The course of true love never did run smooth, as Shakespeare once said, but the course of a successful Tinder date is nigh impossible. So, grab a cuppa and let’s reminisce on my worst dates ever, shall we?
The one who thought his bike was a pet
Yup, you read that correctly. I’m a huge animal lover, so it’s pretty important to me that my potential suitor doesn’t mind me squealing when a dog enters the pub – even better, they join in. This guy wasn’t really a fan of dogs… or cats… or animals in general, which made me realise I should tighten up my vetting process. He went a step further though and declared, without a hint of irony, that his bike was the closest thing he had to a pet. If that wasn’t bad enough, we had to move from the bar we were in because a musician arrived and started sitting percussion instruments on all the tables. The only thing that could have made the date more awkward was audience participation…
The one who made me walk in the rain for 2 hours
This one is up there with the very worst dates I’ve ever been on. I don’t tend to go on coffee dates, mostly because it’s easier to meet someone for a drink and decide whether you want to make that several drinks or just one and done. There’s only so long you can sit in a coffee shop, stone cold sober, with a stranger. Against my better judgement, I agreed to meet a guy (an American, no less) for coffee… on a Sunday morning… after speaking to him online for a day. Not the brightest idea I’ve ever had, but it might have turned out amazingly! Spoiler alert – it didn’t.
After less than thrilling conversation over a coffee, he got up and paid without asking if I wanted to stay or go. He did pay for my coffee though, so that was nice. We left and he asked me what I wanted to do, but there’s not many options at midday on a Sunday in Edinburgh when it’s torrential rain. So, we proceeded to wander with no real plan for the next two hours, before he asked if I wanted to go back to his to ‘watch a film’. No, sir, I do not. He got bent out of shape when I turned his seemingly irresistible offer down and we parted ways, leaving me to go home and change out of my soggy clothes.
The one who spoke about himself the entire night
Let’s face it, this one could apply to several dates I’ve been on. But, this one guy in particular stands out as more narcissistic than the rest. I remember it was hard to nail this guy down for a date, as he was always busy and worked nights. Little did I know it would prove to be a waste of time when we actually did meet. He spoke about himself the entire night. He sold alcohol to bars – or something like that – and proceeded to tell me the intricacies of pretty much everything he sells. I’ll be the first to admit I like my booze, but not enough to actually listen to someone talk about it for hours. He continued to tell me all about growing up in a private school, his various skiing holidays with “the lads” and other things I zoned out for. He barely asked me anything about myself all night and I was admittedly relieved when we called it a night.
The one who called his sister mid-date
Now, I’m all for your loved ones checking in on you to ensure you’re not about to be murdered, but surely a text would suffice? This guy stopped mid-drink to go outside and call his sister, leaving me twiddling my thumbs in the bar. But, maybe there was a family emergency or it was something really urgent, I hear you cry? Nope. He returned and told me his sister just wanted to chat. He then went on to constantly check the time and say he was worried about staying out too late because it was a school night. A) don’t meet me on a school night then and B) it was only 9pm. Safe to say we never saw each other again.
The one who liked whisky… a lot
There’s nothing wrong with liking whisky. It’s not my drink of choice, but each to their own. This guy was a self-proclaimed whisky aficionado, going so far as to write about it for a living. He was even wearing a whisky t-shirt on the date… Fair enough, we all have our passions. But, he did nothing but talk about whisky and put me down for drinking rum, as if I couldn’t possibly know what a good drink was. His exact words were, “I mean, you ARE just drinking rum”. Because every girl wants a guy that’s going to belittle her…
The one with the small hands
I know, I know… size isn’t everything. But, I have an unwritten rule that I like to date people who are at least the same height as me. I’m only 5’6″, so it’s not as if it’s a tall ask (pun intended). But, I do think it’s rude to ask someone’s height before you meet them, so it’s a risk I take. Usually, it’s totally fine. But, every so often you meet someone who isn’t blessed in the height department. And they don’t come much smaller than the one and only Canadian I’ve ever been on a date with.
Obviously, height is uncontrollable, so I do feel bad for judging him on it… But, even his hands were tiny! And his voice was really high. And it just didn’t bode well, if you know what I mean. We also had absolutely nothing in common, as he was part of the navy or the army or cadets or something that requires a uniform and lighting fires in the middle of the Canadian wilderness, as he told me. This was the first date that I ever made an excuse to leave and I still feel slightly guilty for it. But, life is too short to waste on bad dates!
As you can see, dating is a barrel of laughs… and those were only the stories I could remember! But, I do owe dating a lot. It’s done wonders for my confidence and made me more savvy to the ways of (most) men. Sure, it’s also turned me into a bitter cynic who always expects the worst from people, but there’s still that little spark of hope in me that someone will prove me wrong one day.
Until next time,