One of the nice things about going back to where all your friends live is hearing dating horror stories, is it not? The two following dates were related to me in a hushed tone, and it is my great honour to share them with you. Your own terrible dating stories can find a home in the comments.
Let me begin this narrative as it was first told to me:
I had eight OKCupid dates last week. Let me tell you the best, and then the worst.
We had a nice time. Stayed for a third drink. He was cute, seemed cool.
“How old are you?” he asked me, just before the waitress returned with the check.
“31,” I said, and smiled.
His hand snaked out and patted my belly.
“We’re going to have to put a baby in there pretty quickly then, huh.”
It was cold, I got to the bar about five minutes early, sat down and ordered a beer.
About fifteen minutes later, I got a text:
Where r u?
At the bar.
He came in, irritated.
“Most girls would wait outside.”
We made a few minutes of small talk.
“So, I’ve got a cat,” he said. “But I think he’s gay.”
“Hm?” I said, non-committally.
“In the morning, when I get up to pee-pee, sometimes I’m pretty hard, and I’m also, you know, hung.”
“…”
“And he sort of bats at it, like this.”
(makes cupped palm swatting gesture)
“But he’s declawed, so I’m still, you know, intact?”
Our drinks were charged to the credit card I had put down when I arrived. He did not reimburse me for his.
