A long, long, looooonnng, time ago, I went on a date to see a movie. This was before smart phones were super common and neither of us really bothered to look into what the movie was about before we went. It was an Adam Sandler movie that came out after Punch Drunk Love (but way before he did anything like Uncut Gems), so we both went in with the expectation it would probably just be a light hearted comedy with maybe a few more serious moments sprinkled in.

We were already in a long term relationship and knew each other pretty well, so it wasn’t supposed to be a super romantic date or anything. It was more just lets hang out and spend a fun day together, so I made us some weed brownies and snuck them in to share so we could giggle and watch this funny movie together.

Here is the description of the movie we saw that day:

When seasoned comedian George Simmons learns of his terminal, inoperable health condition, his desire to form a genuine friendship causes him to take a relatively green performer under his wing as his opening act.

We’d already settled in and eaten the brownies, and they were just starting to kick in when we realized this wasn’t going to be as light hearted as we thought.

If you’ve ever ingested THC you might already know that some people can have a much more intense experience compared to what they’re used to having from just inhaling it. The person I was dating was one of those people, and eventually he realized he just couldn’t handle eating THC, but this date occured several years before he finally accepted that truth.

So, we sit through this movie, and I can’t really remember much of what happened other than the general theme of coming to terms with your own mortality. I don’t remember it being funny at all. I think there were jokes, but I don’t think we actually laughed the entire time except for the opening scene.

The movie finally ends and the credits start to roll. Everyone gets up around us and starts walking out, but when I stood up to leave he stopped me and asked if we could just wait until people cleared out a little more.

I said ok and we just sat there a while longer. The credits were still rolling, but we were the only people left in the theater and the ushers were standing at the back clearly waiting for us to hurry up and get out so they could sweep before the next movie.

He said something about not being able to go back through the lobby, and said he wanted to go out the door near the screen instead because it led directly outside to the parking lot.

We open the door, step out, and I guess it was kind of jarring for him to go from the dark theater directly into the extremely bright sunshine because he started having a panic attack before we could even reach the car.

I tried to calm him down, but he didn’t want to talk. We hadn’t eaten all day other than the weed brownies so I figured maybe he would feel better if he got some food, but I had also eaten a brownie and I didn’t want to drive too far.

Since we didn’t have smart phones I couldn’t look up what was in the area, but I remembered there was a Chinese buffet pretty close that I had been to once before. I figured that would be a nice quiet place for us to go so he could calm down.

Except when we got there, I guess a family was having a birthday party and it was absolutely packed. It felt more like a giant cafeteria and there were people at every single table talking really loud and celebrating. Then they started playing this same song over and over on a continuous loop like a weird horror movie:

Happy Birthday (Sheng Ri Kuai Le)

Like it would end and then just start up again like it was going to be playing for all eternity. It was so fucking bizarre I couldn’t help but start laughing because it was such a weird situation.

He was mumbling “oh my God,” over and over, but I thought he was just joking about it being so ridiculous. Then around the 5th time it started up again he was suddenly like “I have to go now!” and basically bolted out the door and back to the car.

We get back in the car, and he goes “I think I’m having a stroke. I need you to call 911!”

So, I tried to calm him down and tell him, Hey, you’re ok, you’re not having a stroke. I’m pretty sure you’re just having a panic attack. Let me just take you home so you can lay down for a while.

He kept begging me to call 911, so I started driving him back home. Then, while I was driving he pulled out his own phone and tried to call 911! and I had to wrestle it away from him with one hand while driving, and, then when I did manage to get it away he screamed at me “You bitch! I can’t believe you’re going to let me die because you don’t want to get in trouble!” 😵‍💫…

There was a good 5 mins or so of total silence where neither of us said anything. I get he was scared, but he’d never said anything like that to me before and I was pretty pissed.

Finally, I just told him if he wanted to go to the ER I would drive him, but if he called 911 and it turned out he was just having a panic attack, he could also end up in trouble.

That seemed to sober him up a bit and he calmed down enough to let me just take him back home for a while. I laid on the bed still annoyed about the whole day and pretty pissed at him while he searched the internet on his desktop to figure out if he was actually having a stroke (btw we had taken the brownies like 3+ hrs earlier by this point).

Finally after looking things up and convincing himself he was indeed having something like a stroke, he said he still wanted to go to the ER. I was so fucking annoyed by this point but I just threw up my hands and said fine, whatever. This is fucking dumb. Lets go.

We don’t talk the whole way there, we get to the ER and just sit in this busy waiting room still not talking. Finally they call him back and I stay in the waiting room.

I sat there by myself for an hour or so just kind of rolling my eyes and thinking about how fucking ridiculous it was, and how it had ruined the whole day.

Finally, a chaplain came out into the waiting room and called my name. Then he asks if I’m there with my boyfriend… And for a moment I had my own mini panic attack of “Ohshitohshit did they send the chaplain to tell me he was actually having a stroke the whole fucking time?!”

It turns out that nope, the hospital was just understaffed that day, and he was sent to give me an update. It turns out he was totally fine. It was just a panic attack, and the next day he thanked me for not letting him call 911.

Anyway, that was my worst date that turned into a very shitty day and ended with a visit to the ER.

They invited me to a pool party. When I got there they were baptizing people in the pool. Yeah, stayed for the hot dogs though.

I used to use this as an icebreaker, until I got a very uncomfortable response from a female colleague. Turns out that whilst men’s “worst dates” are usually weird or awkward, and tend to make for good light entertainment and a little window into their lives, women’s are way more likely to be sexual assault related… Made me wonder how many answers I had heard in the past were glossing over some trauma that didn’t need to be brought up in a social setting.

I now usually rely on the way more positive “what’s the next thing you’re looking forward to?”.

Tinder date, my train was late so late so we meet at the train station and walked to the bar. On the way I had a smoke and he told me in lengths how he quit smoking a while ago and how good it was. That’s when I realized he talks with a fake deep voice, sounded like he’s trying to imitate Batman…
At the bar he switched between small talk and his seemingly hot roommate, he’s definitely not interested in, otherwise they would have had sex already (obviously!).

On the way back to the train station he wanted a cigarette from me.

Nothing bad, just weird flexes all over. The voice killed me…

I was stuck in a shitty backpackers on top of a ski mountain with 3 random Russian dudes, swiping on tinder, when a man named Moses gave my a bag of shrooms for free. Moments after I ate them, a woman matched me on tinder and wanted ed to meet up. So I walked further up the mountain to a fancy lodge where this tinder date, I shit you not, introduced me to her family, who were clearly millionaires. There was a gala that I was absolutely not dressed for, and I spent about 30 minutes talking, eating canapes, and tripping motherfucking balls before realising I was too high and getting higher, so I just fucking bounced, went back to the hostel and did about a week’s worth of shits in 1 hour to the dismay of my angry soviet roommates.

Not a word of this story is made up.

With that guy who used our “date” as an opportunity to run errands. I clearly remember a few minutes at a CoinStar machine with him.

I had talked to that girl in a karaoke bar once and we swapped numbers. Had forgotten about her but half a year later she texted me if I was in for a date the same evening. Should have been a red flag already since this is weird, but I was curious… and horny. Date: after 10 minutes of small talk and funny banter she told me that her boyfriend is at home and does not know she’s on a date. No idea why she told me. Was she waiting for some approval? Anyway I was flabbergasted but didn’t decide to call it off right away (I should have but again, I was curious … and horny, even though a little less so now). First hesitated and a few bars and drinks later I decided it’s her responsability not mine and we had some fun later that night and never came back to it until a few weeks later she texted me a whole ‘novel’ full of reproaches, as if I we had had a long relationship and I had broken up on her or so. Absolute weirdo. Friendly reminder to always always ALWAYS wear a condom (I did).

Oh wait how could I forget this one.

Yeah it was a sex date, whatever guys & girls, we all do it.

She came over with the specific intention to fuck me senseless, she brought toys, bondage gear, everything.

She was on top of me doing all kinds of things involving wet genitals rubbing against each other. She had my hands tied and I was loving it.

The next day, I get like 75 text messages about how I put my penis inside of her without her consent.

Let me again underscore that she came over with the explicitly stated purpose of us fucking, and she brought gear to enhance the fuck.

I let her be in complete control of me, and yet somehow in her mind, I had crossed a massive boundary because at the moment the tip of my dick slipped in, I did not have her sign an explicit contract stating that she now consents.

I mean my D was completely soaked with pussy juice at that moment… and she was flicking the tip up and down her labia … like really?

And just to clarify for anyone wondering, she proceeded to screw me silly. All under her own control because we arranged it that way!

I formulated a lawyer-like response, telling her that she came over with all the equipment and she was the one in control and she was the one that put my penis inside of her without asking ME. And then I blocked her.

I don’t know if this counts, but when I was in grad school I had a Tinder date set up at a local pub. I got food poisoning the night before. The “fireworks” ended around 1-2 am and I felt confident enough to go to sleep a couple hours later.

By the time I woke up the next morning, I felt that I could at least meet up for a couple of beers and chat. Plus, I figured telling her I got food poisoning would sound like an excuse to weasel out of the date.

I ended up sitting outside the pub to meet up for a half hour. She never showed up, and I finally gave up asking if she’d show up a couple of times.

Gal was a friend of a friend. Met her in passing at a show one time and said we should go out. She invited me to come over hers and we’d go see her “friend’s band play” at a nearby bar. Got ready with her and her roommate. Was around Halloween so I intended to splatter a bunch of fake blood and paint on myself for a zombie - her and her roommate helped and she helped herself to apply up under my torn up shirt so I was thinking “wow this is going swimmingly already”.

We go to the bar she seems to know everybody and keeps handing me free liquor. Watch a couple bands, talk to a bunch of her friends, and I’m honestly having a great time also getting pretty drunk. She introduces me to this one dude and the vibe is weird like he’s being subtly hostile. Turns out this dude was the “friend” in the band.

Anyway night goes on late she’s hanging onto me off and on, pretty handsy. We decide ok time to head back to her apartment - I’m not really expecting anything but she’s been sending pretty big signals all night and I’m happy to get back to hers. As we’re leaving her “friend” in the band calls after her. She tells me “oh hold on” and goes to talk with the dude. Conversation seems involved. I kind of just hang around a bit awkwardly just listening to the lingering conversations around me unsure how long this is gonna take. Eventually 20-30 minutes go by and I’m looking around and they’re nowhere to be found.

I’m pretty drunk and about 3 miles from this girl’s apartment - I decide fuck it I’ll walk back. I had left some things in her apt so I needed to get them.

Get to the apt after a long walk and knock. It takes a couple minutes for someone to answer - gal in question answers the door disheveled and scantily clad and says oh hey I’m sorry uh I kinda lost you. I’m kind of mad at this point and just say “yeah I just wanna get my stuff and use your bathroom if that’s alright.” She stares at me a second real awkward and says “uhhhh yeahh I don’t think that’s a good idea” and it clicks for me.

I burst out laughing my ass off in the middle of the night on this empty street. I tell her “dude just bring me my things please”. She doesn’t say anything else but goes up and brings my stuff down. I wait 30 seconds, piss on her front porch, and go to sleep in my car. Drive home hung over next morning.

Probably August 9th.

28 February 1987.

Worst dates? How about bizarre ones? I’ll omit my actual worst dates because I suspect they’d be too intense or bring down the mood, and I’m guessing that may not be the intention of the post.

I briefly dated this one girl in Portland, Oregon. Let’s call her Marie. I planned everything for the first date, drove all the way across town for the sake of meeting at a memorable place on a pleasant day - effort I put in when I think there’s a chance for something with real potential.

We met up at a farmer’s market, awkwardly scooted around looking at various produce and tasted spicy chocolates while talking about who knows what. Positive, light-hearted conversation. Cool, Marie passed the vibe check, so I took her to my favorite bakery in the area. Better conversation this time - enough to want a second date. We started walking maybe two blocks until she excused herself and dipped out - no hug, kiss, or handshake. Huh. Well, it was less than a 90-minute date. OK, bye bye.

A few days passed as we kept in touch over text and agreed to another date. I, again, made all the plans; I don’t remember what they were exactly but do recall that it was a very thoughtful and cute idea based on some cute thing that we bonded over when we were last together. Marie said no, she’d actually prefer to go to a book signing at Powell’s (which is downtown, across the city for me) in the middle of the week at, like, 5pm. Hmm, OK, I’ll give it a shot. I appreciated her proposing a date idea and hadn’t been to a book signing in a long time, anyway.

The day came. I scrambled after my last meeting for the day to shower and prep and whatnot, hopped in my car and enjoyed a ~45 minute drive in heavy traffic toward the heart of the city. I eventually found paid parking about 4 blocks away, tossed a few coins to my Parking Kitty, and rushed off to the bookstore.

I composed myself while looking around but saw no sign of Marie. 5 minutes until the signing, whew. I texted her to say I’d arrived. I started to meander, peeking around the stacks to see if she’s browsing but stayed to the entryway. It’s cold and drizzly outside, enough where people weren’t loitering around, so I didn’t think we’d miss each other that way. 0 minutes until the signing. 5 minutes late. I texted again. 10 minutes late. Then there she is - there’s Marie! A brief “hey!” later, we scurried upstairs and, thankfully, saw that the group was seated but the crowd was still murmuring, so the event hadn’t yet begun.

We grabbed our seats and enjoyed the event, after which I anticipated that we’d walk and talk around the bookstore or do… something date-y, but she said “OK I’m gonna head out.” Uh. “Alright, can I walk you to your car?” She nodded, and off we went. We made it about two blocks and only chatted for maybe 2-3 minutes before reaching her car. “OK, bye!” she said as she got in her car with a timid wave.

After I got back home, I texted Marie, asking if she was OK because it felt like we only shared a few sentences before departing and I’m not used to that kind of communication, especially on dates. No response. I waited two days, still no response, so I told her that it was nice seeing her but I need better communication with people I’m dating.

I was in college. During a volleyball game at an away school, one of the girls on the other team came up to me to ask about my serve. (I did this weird side-arm thing rather than overhead.) She was cute and nice, so I asked her if she would like to exchange info. We talked more, and I eventually asked her out. I brought her to a nice place for dinner. She ordered a steak, then proceeded to pick the whole thing up with her bare hands and raw dog the steak. I was instantly turned off. I told her I wasn’t feeling well and ran to the bathroom. I found the waiter and paid for everything, then I went back to the table, told her I was sick and needed to go home, but I paid for everything so please enjoy the meal. She called the next day and wanted to meet up again. I told her I’d hang, but only as a friend and I didn’t want to take things further. She threatened to kill herself, so I called emergency services, and let them handle that. Still the biggest bullet I ever dodged.

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