by Sarah Wexler
Telling you he loves you or introducing you to his family would be so cute if he did it after you were together for six months. After six minutes, not so much. Generally, these guys are harmless, hapless, and well-meaning—but we still understand why you're too freaked out to date them.
SPEED RACER
At dinner, he blurts out, "Are you seeing anyone else?" I wasn't sure how to respond, so I tried to play it off by smiling and flirtatiously saying, "I'm seeing everyone." He goes, "It's just that I really enjoy our time together, and I'd like to know that I'm the only one you're spending time with." We'd known each other for an hour.
THE LOVER
We had a great blind date and afterward were making out. All of a sudden, he whispers in my ear, "I love you." I was a little drunk, so I thought I'd misheard him. But a few minutes later, he whispered it again. I got really uncomfortable and asked how he could love me if he didn't know my last name. He freaked out and, hitting himself in the forehead, mumbled, "STUPID! STUPID!" I got the feeling it wasn't the first time he'd done this.
ILL COMMUNICATION
We had a good (not great, but fine) time over dinner—he was awkward, but I mostly found it endearing. The next day, I got a text from him that said, "Are we exclusive?" I ignored it, not sure if it was a joke or he was nuts. He texted again: "I need to know—have another date tonight and not sure if I should cancel."
HIS WAY OR THE HIGHWAY
I met him at an IT conference and he asked for my email address. We wrote each other several times, but if I didn't respond to him right away, he would send me snippy follow-ups to make sure I'd gotten his email. Still, I gave him the benefit of the doubt and made plans to get dinner together. He suggested his favorite restaurant, which was near his house but nearly an hour away from mine. I said okay as long as he agreed to drive me home afterward so I wouldn't have to take the train by myself at night. After an okay dinner, we got in the car and he started with a barrage of questions about what I'm looking for in a man, how well I thought the date went, my dating history, you name it. I tried to laugh it off and change the subject, but he got really offended and said he didn't feel like driving me home anymore, dropped me off at the train station, and sped away.
MR. AND MRS. SMITH
We started emailing on an online dating site and he seemed nice enough. A few emails in, I asked his last name. He wrote back calling me Mrs. His Last Name (let's say Smith). I thought it was kind of like high school, where you'd draw that on your notebook, so I laughed it off. But then he wouldn't stop. In every communication after that, he referred to me as Mrs. Smith. I still decided to meet up with him, and when he saw me at the bar, he goes, "Over here, Mrs. Smith!" That's when I got the feeling he wasn't joking.
9-1-1, WHAT’S YOUR EMERGENCY?
After an amazing, ten-hour marathon first date, he dropped me off at my apartment and asked that I text him when I got inside that I was safe (we were parked literally beneath my window). I dutifully texted him and tossed the phone back into my purse. Some forty-five minutes later I thought it was weird he hadn't written me back. I looked at my phone and realized it hadn't gone through, so I resent it. A second later, he calls in a hysterical rage, screaming that he was terrified that something had happened to me. I assured him I was safe, and he shouted, "I even called 9-1-1, I was so worried!" Three days went by, then he texted me to ask, "Are we over? And, if so, is it because I called 9-1-1?"
THE APPLE DOESN’T FALL FAR...
By the time we ordered appetizers, he'd already told me, apropos of nothing, that everyone in his family was either an addict or mentally ill. His parents were raving alcoholics, and as a result of his childhood, he was on a strict regimen of medication for post-traumatic stress disorder. "No kid should be beaten with a garden hose," he said, digging into his salmon entree. I agreed, of course, and felt bad for him, but it was getting a little deep for only knowing each other for twenty minutes. I suggested we change the subject to something lighter, but he put his hand on mine, gazed into my eyes, and said, "I want you to see what I've been through and love me for it." Check, please!
NOT TONIGHT, DUDE!
I gave a guy at the bar my number, and he texted me to make plans for the weekend. A few hours before we were supposed to meet, I wrote him and explained I (honestly) wasn't feeling well and that I'd need to reschedule. He completely panicked, sending me a series of texts: "Then maybe take a nap and see how you feel later? I don't know, kinda bummed right now to be honest...for me to cancel on someone I want to see in just a few hours, I would have to be in pretty rough shape." Trying to guilt me into going out wasn't working—I didn't respond—so he tried another tactic. "Or maybe you're not that excited about seeing the other person. I hope it is the prior one. The proverbial ball is in your court. I get that you're busy, but I'm a firm believer in that we make time for the things that we really want. I just thought that you would be excited about tonight. You can understand where I'm coming from, right?" Imagine that message loaded with winking emoticons.
AN INDECENT PROPOSAL
An old flame called me one night asking how I've been and would I like to go out this weekend? I hadn't seen him in a few months since we'd briefly dated, and I'd still been hung up on him after he stopped calling me. He was hot, smart, and shared my interests, as he'd come from Thailand to study in my same graduate program. At a fancy restaurant he picked, we caught up on each other's lives. He paid more attention to what I had to say that night than ever before, and I, flattered, kept talking. We were finishing up dinner, and he said, "Would you marry me for $10,000?" I told him that if we dated again I would consider marrying him, but why would he have to pay me? That's when he divulged his plan to fake a marriage so he could get citizenship and work in the U.S. after we graduated and his student visa expired. He said that taking a risk like this together would bond us and maybe turn into something meaningful. For him, the risk was basically nothing; if we were caught, then he would be deported back to Thailand, but I would face hefty fines and even prison. Of course I said no, and he spent the rest of the evening, until I finally got him to drop me off, trying to convince me to green-card-marry him.
HAWAIIAN TROPIC
He spends the entire dinner telling me exactly how much money he makes, obsessing about our age difference (twelve years), and then tops it off by saying that he closed his account to our mutual online dating service "as a compliment" to me (a little premature, buddy—it's our first date!). Then he invites me to spend the week with him in Hawaii when he goes for a conference in two days and tells me about a $1,500 bottle of cognac at his house that "we will drink and then you can go home." I finally manage to extricate myself without going home with him, but there is an email in my inbox when I arrive reiterating the Hawaii invitation.
HOUSEWIFE HUNTER
He told me that he was a financial analyst and his exact six- figure salary, which meant he made enough money that his wife would be able to stay home with his future kids, and asked if I'd be okay with agreeing to that. Fifteen minutes into our first date I'm not!
MAMA DRAMA
We met for coffee and, halfway through, his mother, who also lives in town, happened to show up. Instead of telling her he was on a date or that they'd talk later, he waved her over, and she slid into the booth next to me, ordered a coffee drink with alcohol in it, and spent the rest of our date getting tipsy and talking about which football teams she likes. She smoked a cigarette and accidentally ashed it into my cappuccino. Finally I decided to leave the two of them alone, so I said good night, and he walked me out the front door. When he tried to go in for a kiss, his mom started rapping on the window and cheering.
MAZEL TOV!
I was making plans for a first date with a guy I met on J-Date, the Jewish online dating site. I suggested something casual like drinks, or maybe coffee. Instead, he asked if I wanted to come to Rosh Hashanah dinner at his grandparents' house, two hours away.
THE OFFICE STALKER
The
re was a guy in my office who worked on another team but always hung around my department chatting and sometimes said hi to me. One day, he stopped by my desk and asked me to dinner. I had no idea what his name was, and I didn't find him particularly attractive, but he seemed nice, so I said okay.
He picks me up and takes me to the priciest restaurant in the city, and after a few minutes, I can already tell there's no chemistry for me. Over appetizers, he says, "I've been watching you since the first day you started, on December 6," which was nearly two years before. Weird. Then he recounts exactly what I was wearing that day. He says he's asked everyone at work about me and that he "sees a real future for us." To let him down easy, I tell him I just got out of a bad relationship and don't want to be with anyone, but he persists, saying, "You're not going to change my mind. I'm determined to date you." I'm scrambling for what to say, so I suddenly blurt out a lie:
"I can't date you...because I have herpes!" I'm mortified but I figure it will finally shake him loose. He pauses for a moment. Then he beams and says, "It's okay. I have herpes too!"
CHILD’S PLAY
He picked me up for our lunch date and drove us to a house. It turned out that the home belonged to his family, and that day his little brother was having his tenth birthday party. What we did on our "lunch date": watched Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles with a bunch of ten-year-olds, watched them jump on the trampoline, and then we sat around the table with them while his mother served us pizza.
THAT ISN’T KOSHER
He told me that he couldn't have dinner with me because there were no kosher restaurants in my neighborhood. I'm Jewish too, but the I-eat-bacon-and-haven't-been-to-synagogue-since-my-Bat-Mitzvah kind. We agreed on dessert in his neighborhood instead, and over a piece of Rabbi-approved chocolate cake, I asked about his favorite books, movies, sports, music. He didn't like any of them. For fun, he said, he went to synagogue. I told him that we probably wouldn't make a great match, but he gazed into my eyes and told me that people can change. He walked me home in dead silence and, at my front stoop, took my hand. "I'm ready for a family," he said. "Are you?"
Awful First Dates: Hollywood Dispatch
"I fell asleep on his shoulder, and I slobbered and snored. That was pretty bad. But he shouldn't have taken me to see There's Something About Mary for my third time. Whoopsie."
—Kelly Rowland
Chapter 7
MR. TMI
Aren't women always saying we want a man who is open and honest, willing to share his utmost secrets, desires, dreams, and feelings? Well, yes. But that doesn't mean he needs to share them all at once, and certainly not within an hour of meeting you. These guys are chronic oversharers, spilling way more than we need to know, perhaps ever. No one wants a man who plays games, but there's something to be said for a little intrigue, a few mysteries that make you want to learn more about him. Maybe because they want to seem vulnerable, or for you to know their "true self," or just because they have a case of verbal diarrhea, these guys tell you more than you could ever want to know.
It's easy to identify Mr. TMI (too much information). Is he sharing something that should only be admitted in front of a priest? Are you embarrassed for him? Are you spending the evening nodding and saying "mmm-hmmm" a lot, wondering if this is exactly what it feels like to be a shrink? Are you coming away from the evening knowing how he lost his virginity, what his ATM PIN is, his illegal activities, and having seen hundreds of photos of his childhood pet gerbil, Senor Stinky? Then your date needs to learn how to shut it.
WHAT A WEENIE
On the date, we proceeded to get very drunk. Then he started crying and confided to me about how small his penis was and asked if he could show it to me to get my opinion.
SCOOBY DON’T
Over dinner, he told me he'd put my photo on his website (he found it online) and that he'd already told his mom all about me and really, all he wanted to do was get married. He also informed me that I would be required to have as many children as possible, and he already had the names. He got progressively drunker and accused me of flirting with the waiting staff. The next day, he sent me a text with a picture of him dressed up as Scooby Doo for no reason. He called three weeks later, accusing me of giving him chlamydia. I had to explain it wasn't transmitted through kissing.
HE’S PORNY
We met at the library of all places and had a really intellectual talk about our favorite books. We exchanged numbers, and I called him a few days later to see if he wanted to meet up again. When I asked what he was doing, he said, "Not much—just watching some porn." I thought it was a joke until he asked if I wanted to come over and watch with him.
TUMMY TROUBLES
After dinner, he excuses himself to go to the bathroom, and I wait...and wait...and wait. He finally comes back, and I ask if he's okay; he says he's fine. We head back to my apartment to hang out, and he goes to the bathroom again. I wait and wait and wait again. He finally comes out, and I ask him if he's all right. He says he is. After he left, I discovered the wads and wads of toilet paper shoved in the corner—I guess because he was too embarrassed to flush the toilet over and over? Of course I never called him again.
HIGH TIMES
When I picked him up, he'd just gotten a hamburger and chips and proceeded to eat them in my car. (I thought we were going for a meal, so I hadn't eaten.) Then he asked if we could make a quick stop, so I followed his directions, and we ended up at his pot dealer's house. I sat there for an hour watching them smoke before I stood up and announced that I was leaving. He asked for a ride home and I said okay. Before he got out of the car, he asked, "Can I touch you 'down there'?" Needless to say, the answer was no.
BABY MAKER
He's twenty minutes late to dinner, and when he arrives, he insists on dining at one of the outdoor tables, even though I point out that it's sixty degrees and I'm wearing spaghetti straps. Within moments of sitting down, he asks why I don't have kids. He then tells me his sperm count and adds, "If you want to be a mother, I can help with that." I bail early but by the time I get home, I already have an email from him, complete with an attachment containing the results of his latest physical.
A BAD PREVIEW
Before our movie started, he told me he'd had only one relationship and she dumped him, leaving him so heartbroken he tried to kill himself. Halfway through the movie, he kept putting his hand on my leg, and I'd move it and he'd put it back. Then I was waiting for the bus home, and he decided to wait with me so he could show me every single photo in his phone of him and his ex together, describing where they were taken and how long they'd been together at that point.
FLOW-JOE
I was five minutes into a date with a new guy and we were covering the normal small talk: jobs, our neighborhoods, our apartments. After explaining that I lived with several female roommates, he asked if we were all on the same menstrual cycle.
HIGH EXPECTATIONS
We met for lunch and he kept going on about how fed up he was with living with his parents (he's forty and unemployed). He then informed me that I shouldn't be worried about his prospects—he would be ready to move out in a few months. And how was he planning to pay for this supposed big move with no job? With the profit he planned to make from the marijuana crop he's growing! He said he expected to make about ten grand, and that he does this every year, and it's no big deal. I told him that was weird and illegal, and that I wanted no part of it. After which he became sulky and wouldn't finish his lunch.
GET A HANKIE
While walking through the park, he kept sneezing and told me he had really bad allergies. I offered him a tissue from the packet in my purse. He turned it down—and then covered one of his nostrils to blow a snot rocket and said, "All better." No, sir, it is not.
HE NEEDS AN ALARM CLOCK, NOT A GIRLFRIEND
The guy I'd been talking to online emailed me on Friday to set up our date for the next morning—he suggested meeting at 11 a.m. at a neighborhood coffee shop. I was about to leave
to meet him when I turned on my phone—he'd texted me at 3 a.m. saying he stayed out late drinking and would need me to call him in the morning (he'd set his ringer on loud) to wake him up or else he would "sleep all afternoon." I actually called him (it was ten minutes before we were supposed to meet) and he answered all groggy and said he was awake but was lying in bed watching TV.