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My Worst Date(s)

You know what they say, you gotta kiss a couple frogs?

By KamPublished 3 years ago 5 min read
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We all know what it means to have an alright date. You know the one I’m talking about, when you leave, you think to yourself, “Maybe he was just nervous?” or “Give him another chance, it can’t be that bad twice?” Well sometimes, that’s true. And most times, it’s not. For those "most times" you say, “I know for DAMN sure that I am not calling them back.” We’ve ALL had one of those, and if you’re one of the lucky few that haven’t—well, good for you, go buy a lottery ticket. Honestly, I’ve had a slew of bad dates that seemed to culminate over one specific summer. I was dumped and my first reaction (after the sobbing began to stop) was to go on dates…a LOT of dates. For privacy, I’ll change the names because I’m sure the dates themselves are embarrassed enough. And so begins, the series of three of the worst dates from one summer and some of the lessons that terrible dates have taught me.

We’ll call this first chap Mike.

The first “date” I had was at a Vulfpeck concert with some friends from school. A friend of ours decided to bring his roommate, who happened to be British and very cute, and also indescribably awkward. Long story short, I ended up in front of him halfway through the show and all of a sudden, we were making out. HA, happens. Low and behold, we hung out at a couple more parties, all with alcohol involved, which made him a lot more interesting than he actually was. For those of you who have binged watched Friends (like I have), imagine Mike as Fun Bobby. He texted me a couple days later and I told myself to give him an actual chance, so we went on a date, just the two of us without his trusty alcohol friend, and it was horrific. Needless to say, I was the epitome of a gentleman for the evening. I walked to his door, and knocked, opened his door to my car, and drove us, and then (here’s the kicker for you) I made every single ounce of conversation for the longest 45 minutes that I’ve ever experienced. When I dropped him off at the 46th minute, he kissed me and with a big ol’ smile said, “I’ll text you tonight.” I responded with a big confident, “sure.” Mike texted. I never responded.

Number two can be Stu.

The second date I went on this splendid summer was someone I decided was “just nervous” the first time and needed a second chance. Remind me not to make that mistake again. The first time we went out, he had a catch phrase that he seemed to use every three sentences or so in order to change the conversation, or every girl’s turn on, tear himself down. “But I digress” is something that I never want to hear again, because guess what, it wasn’t a first date jitters kind of thing, he says it everyday, all the time. The best part about this date was not even the catch phrase, but when we said goodbye that night it was like mouth to mouth...in a pool. I genuinely don’t even know how he was able to look at me through his sweat. Kissing him was like pouring an entire salt shaker in my mouth. Obviously to be polite, I let him finish and I drove him home. Haven’t spoken to Sweaty Stu since.

Numero tres, let’s call him Adam.

I’ve tried Tinder a total of once in my life; this date was my once. Adam, a 20-year-old graduate from the Musicians Institute in Hollywood, had played drums for sensations like Justin Timberlake, Charlie Puth, and many others. What could possibly go wrong with a sell like that? So I made a date. I met him at his place, we walked around Hollywood Blvd. and he bought me poke. Sounds like a pretty solid night, right? If you said yes, you’d be wrong. Adam was one of those people that has worked with some big names and knows it, AND loveeeeeees to talk about it. We got back to his place, and we started to watch Lights Out, because obviously most guys immediately think that girls will cuddle with you because they’re “scared.” To make matters even better, HE got scared and instead of cuddling, he just went straight to, “maybe I’ll just start making out with her and not have to watch the movie at all.” Within a minute, he had taken off my shirt, and tried to remove my pants. Needless to say, I made up an excuse and I was out of there. The funniest part of the whole night was getting a text from him later that said, “I hope my big forehead didn’t scare you off.” Sorry, Adam, it was definitely not the forehead that did it.

However, out of what may have been the worst summer of dating, came one of the best things that could have happened. I learned three insanely important lessons from those three dates.

1. Alcohol and personality are not the same thing; don’t let it fool you.

2. If you didn’t feel something right off the bat, it’s probably best not to take another swing.

3. Simple and sweet: Don’t use Tinder. I did meet my current boyfriend on Hinge though, and that was a homerun. So, no to Tinder, yes to Hinge.

The one thing that I will tell anyone looking for dating advice, besides the three listed above, is that dating is so important. Sometimes it takes a million terrible dates until you find that million and one perfect date.

And THAT is my worst date(s) and my best advice.

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About the Creator

Kam

My belief: Either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.

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Nice work

Very well written. Keep up the good work!

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