Thanks to Katie Trinder for sharing this toe-curling date:
“I think we’ve all had a teacher that we had a crush on at school, so imagine my delight when a few years after leaving, I bumped into one of my old ones who had been affectionately known as ‘nice bum’.
After a chat, a coffee and much hair flicking (by me) and gentle touches of the arm (him) he asked me out… Continue reading Nice bum, Sir
You know when you meet someone, and they seem familiar but you can’t place them?…
Rob: Hey there, I’m Rob. Nice to meet you.
Me: Hey Rob. I’m still Hannah. You don’t remember me, do you?
Rob: Err, sorry, could you remind me?
Me: Sure! Two years ago, we went on a blind date to see Blur. You didn’t seem terribly impressed when I turned up, and we talked for a while but we didn’t really have much in common. Three songs into the gig you told me that you didn’t feel well and had to go home, and we never spoke again. Remember me now?
Rob: Oh god.
Me: It’s been lovely catching up with you again!
Many thanks to the splendid Mark Sadler for sending in this searingly painful story of a terrible, terrible date:
“A couple of friends of mine, who were in the early stages of a relationship, took note of my single status and decided that they would set me up on a blind date, so that I might know some of their happiness.
In embarking upon this course of action they overlooked two glaring truths: That I lack the levels of social intelligence necessary to navigate an evening in which I am expected to eat pasta while under the close scrutiny of another human being. Also that every one of my relationships had been, without exception, a surreal fiasco with a half-life comparable to that of Copernicium.
Continue reading Rhino origami, sea-snakes and spiders
I spent an evening with a chap who kept telling me that his boss was putting pressure on him to do something illegal. He didn’t want to do it – as well as being illegal, the task was apparently something he found morally abhorrent – but wasn’t sure whether he’d be able to keep saying no or not. He would only tell me that he worked for “The Government” – no mention of which department – and got more and more agitated throughout the evening as he repeatedly mentioned it.
I never heard from him again.
I can’t help but wonder what happened to him.
I’d been talking to a man at a Meetup drinks party for maybe ten minutes. In that time, he’d told me about his two ex-wives, why his marriages had broken down and how extraordinarily high his sex-drive was.
I was just looking for the nearest exit when he leaned in suddenly and whispered hoarsely in my ear: “I’m going to kiss you right now. In front of everyone. It’ll scandalise them”.
He did not actually manage to kiss me, as I immediately ran away squeaking “I’M TERRIBLY SORRY I MUST GO TO THE LOO IMMEDIATELY”.
On returning, I grabbed my mate Sarah and we moved seats, leaving Mr Overly-Keen on his own. We managed to avoid him for the rest of the night.
The next day, he emailed me this message (via Meetup, I didn’t give him my details):
“Hi, fancy coffee/tea/meal or a walk in the woods sometime?”.
Classily, he sent the exact same message to Sarah too.
Both Sarah and I felt that there is something slightly of the serial killer about the phrase “a walk in the woods”.
A walk in the woods with a mate, sure! With someone you’ve met in a bar for a few minutes? Who’s been very clear that he’s only interested in sexy time? NO THANKS.
This is terribly shallow of me, and I’m quite ashamed.
I went on a date with a chap who may have been very nice, but I genuinely have no idea. I couldn’t concentrate on anything he said all evening because I was too transfixed by the enormous pulsating boil next to his nose. Seriously, I think it had hypnotic powers as I couldn’t look away from it all night.
I’m very sorry, Mr Whoever-You-Were.
I’m guessing that you’re here through the link in this week’s B3ta newsletter; rather exciting to be mentioned and lovely to see you here! Hope you enjoy the site, please come back as there’s several updates every week.
And if you’ve ever been on a date with me… hello again!
It was half an hour before we were supposed to meet.
He phoned: “Hi. I can’t make it tonight because my dog’s not very well.”
We didn’t reschedule.
This horrendous date comes from an anonymous contributor:
“We had our first date in a lovely country pub. The conversation was flowing well until:
Him: “I read something interesting in the newspaper this week”
Him: “Apparently, the thing that determines how long you’re going to live isn’t what your parents died of, it’s how old they were when they died”.
Continue reading The Fine Art of Small Talk
Before the date, he warned me that he got very nervous on first dates and often talked a lot. Fine. So I sat and listened to him talk about himself for the best part of three hours.
Eventually, he paused for breath, looked at me and said:
Date: “I suppose I’d better ask you something about yourself, hadn’t I?”
Me: “That’d be nice”
Date: “So, tell me about your ex-husband.”
Date: “Your ex-husband. How did you meet each other, how long were you together and when did it all go wrong?”
Continue reading Don’t talk about your ex. Or my ex.
I’d been seeing a guy for a little while; he lived a long way away, so all our dates had been in restaurants and bars. This meant we hadn’t been to each other’s homes, but one night he finally invited me over to his to stay the night.
We went out for a meal first, but he was on his phone for most of it: “Sorry about this, but work’s manic, I’ve got to check my phone”. When we eventually got back to his, he barely said a word to me, just kept looking at his phone.
I couldn’t work out what had gone wrong, and I wanted to leave. Unfortunately, I was too far from home to get public transport back, and I’d had a few glasses of wine, so I couldn’t drive.
I was stuck at his. He clearly didn’t want me there, but there was nothing that could be done.
Continue reading Personal Space
He sent me a Valentine’s card, even though he knew full well I had a boyfriend. He also posted a video of himself on his Facebook page, singing a song “for the woman I love, and may have lost”.
I spent the day wondering how to respond. I was pretty angry by his assumption that I’d leave my boyfriend for him; loyalty’s very important to me. I was also fuming at his suggestion that I could somehow be “won”, like a goldfish at the fair.
A few hours passed. I was just composing a restrained “Sorry, but you know I’m not available” text, when I checked Facebook again.
This time, he’d updated his status to “Fuck this, I’m sick of waiting for a response, I’m going back to bed”.
We went out for hot chocolate. He grabbed the bill as it arrived:
Him: “Do you want to see me again?”
Me: “Sure, I’ve had a nice time”.
Him: “Are you sure you want to see me again?”
Me: “Yes, I just said I did”.
Him: “I don’t want to put you on the spot here, but you’re definitely sure that you want to see me again?”
Me: (getting less sure by the second) “errr, sure, yeah”.
Him: “Well, in that case, I would be delighted to pay for your hot chocolate”.
Him: “Well, I wasn’t going to offer to pay for it if you’re not going to see me again.”
Me: “It’s a £2 mug of hot chocolate. I’m fully prepared to pay for it myself.”
Him: “I’ll buy it for you if you’re going to see me again”.
Me: “I’d really rather just get it myself, thanks.”
Him: “No, no, no, I insist. My treat.”
Me: “No, really.”
In the end, he bought the bloody hot chocolates. But he never called me again.
Many thanks to Vince for sending in this story of a terrible, terrible date:
“My friend and his girlfriend set me up with her friend on a blind date; we all met up at the girlfriend’s parent’s house. Within five minutes of meeting, my date told me how she hated blind dates; was only there because her friend insisted; and thought the gaps in my teeth “looked weird”.
We were due to hang out at the house for the weekend. I left 90 minutes after I arrived.”
Thank you Vince!
If you’d like to share your dating horror story, please click here:
He insisted I listen while he read something out to me; a 7 page article from “Architecture Today”. I am reasonably good at doing “polite face” but that was a challenge too far, and around page 5 I started yawning (he didn’t notice, he was too busy reading).