Category: Dating

My philosophy of dating is to just fart right away. – Jenny McCarthy

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The Date Was A Mess

| UK | Dating

(I’m out on a date with a girl I’ve recently gotten to know. The date goes well until the end, when I notice I made a bit of a mess with the condiments — salt a bit scattered over the table, some mustard splatter, etc. I go to clean it up with a napkin.)

Date: “What are you doing? That isn’t your job; it’s the waiter’s job to clean!

Me: “It’s no issue; I used to work this sort of job. They have to give it a wipe down anyway, but I figure why not make it a little easier? I didn’t mean to make this much of a mess.”

Date: “Sure, but you’re allowed to make as much mess as you want; you’re the customer! It’s their job to clean up after us, silly!”

Me: “…”

(I cleaned it up anyway, and we didn’t have many dates after that. These sort of instances along with her doing things like insisting that I HAD to put ‘x’ at the end of all my texts to her simply because she was my girlfriend (after I told her, I just don’t put x’s to anyone) and getting needlessly angry whenever I didn’t, I decided to call it quits.)

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No… One… Dates Like Gaston

| USA | Dating

(I’m on a first date with a guy who seemed nice enough before this. He’s made several comments like, “You’re pretty smart for a girl,” so I’m uncomfortable and looking for an opportunity to leave without being rude. Somehow, the topic of children comes up. I can’t have children due to a medical condition and don’t want them anyway.)

Date: “Yeah, I think I’d want three kids. It’s a good number, not too many, not too few.”

Me: “Well—”

Date: *cutting me off* “The first would be a boy, of course. He’d be named after me. I’m named after my father, so he’d be [Date] III. For the other two, I’m thinking David and Stephanie.”

Me: “I—”

Date: *cutting me off again* “I’d send them to [Private School] instead of a public school with everyone else. My sons would play football, like me.”

(This continues for quite a while. He apparently has his possible future children’s lives entirely planned out in detail, and just keeps talking even if I try to say something. Eventually, he gets through the plan.)

Me: “That’s… very thought out.”

Date: “And of course my wife would be a stay at home mom.” *looks at me expectantly*

Me: *no longer caring about being rude* “Good luck finding someone for that. It’s getting late. I should be going now.”

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Didn’t Make The Cut

| Houston, TX, USA | Dating

(When I was 22, I went through a really bad break up. My mother decides that I immediately need to get back into the dating game. She sets up a match.com account with my picture and sets me up on some blind dates. Her taste in men has always been pretty terrible, and I consider this moment the definitive proof of her bad taste.)

Date: “Do you have any tattoos?”

Me: “Yeah, I have one.”

Date: “That doesn’t work for me. I’m just going to have to cut off your skin there.”

(Needless to say, he didn’t get a second date, although he kept calling me and sending me XXX explicit text messages afterwards. I had to have one of my guy friends answer the phone and tell him he had a wrong number to get him to leave me alone.)

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The Wedding Before The Nightmare Before Christmas

| Ball, LA, USA | Dating

(My boyfriend is playing an online game with some of his friends and I’m on my computer browsing Pinterest. I catch part of their conversation: apparently, they’ve started talking about their girlfriends. Neither of us are particularly romantic.)

Boyfriend: *to his friends* “Yeah, my girlfriend is awesome. She loves to cook, helps me keep the house clean, and she crochets some really awesome stuff. She’s actually looking for crochet patterns right now.”

(He listens to his friends for a moment then laughs.)

Boyfriend: “No, dude, you don’t understand: she doesn’t just make hats and gloves like your grandma. I mean, yeah, she made me an awesome R2-D2 hat but she also made me the Enterprise.” *pause* “Yeah, THAT Enterprise. It’s sitting on a shelf in our living room.” *pause* “She’s definitely a keeper. In fact, hey, [Best Friend] would you be my best man?”

(I turn to give him an incredulous look but can’t help laughing.)

Me: “Really?”

Boyfriend: *pulls off his headset and turns to face me* “So, how about we get married on Halloween next year? That’s your favorite holiday, isn’t it? I figure we could do The Nightmare Before Christmas for the theme since it’s your favorite thing ever.”

Me: *laughing* “Sure, let’s do it. Let’s get married on Halloween. I’ll make a Pinterest board for it and start saving ideas.”

(He claps once then turns back to his game and puts his headset back on.)

Boyfriend: “Okay, so, save the date, [Best Friend]. We’re getting married on October 31, 2016 and you’re going to be my best man.” *pause* “Yes, she agreed.” *pause* “No, she wasn’t mad. You guys just don’t understand her like I do.”

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He’s Not A (House)Keeper

| Pittsburgh, PA, USA | Dating

(I am tentatively flirting online with a guy who has commented on my writing-themed blog. I think we are getting along well, until I mention that the combination of my fairly low-level office job and the work involved in keeping up with my house has left me less time for writing than I might like.)

Him: “Why don’t you just hire a housekeeper?”

(I was never so grateful NOT to be face to face with someone. Hire a housekeeper? On a cubicle worker’s salary? I’m more likely to hire out AS a housekeeper to try and pay down some debts! Flirting ended rather quickly after that little exchange…)

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