My horror story is about a date I went on many years ago. A guy messaged me on Facebook asking if he could take me out. He was a mutual friend, I didn't know him, but I learned he knew a couple of my friends, and I thought it would be ok to go out with him.
Boy, was I wrong. We agreed to meet at 7pm, at which point he picked me up an hour later. That was the first issue: don't be late for a date. I decided that I wouldn't make a big deal about it and proceeded with the date. He pulled up in a clean PT Cruiser on the outside, but the inside looked like the trash man dropped the whole receptacle inside his car, with bags of food all over the backseat of his car.
I looked back at that trash and back at him several times, thinking whether I should get out and run. I didn't, but I should have. He casually states, "I'm sorry, my car is a mess. I've been really busy,"
I asked, "Have you been busy all year? You’ve had no time to clean this car up?"
He replies, "Honestly, yeah."
I didn't challenge this any further, but I thought his response was an excuse. I failed to mention that his car also smelled like marijuana. It was screaming from the car's upholstery, and I was looking at his eyes, trying to figure out whether he was high or not. I was honestly concerned we would get in a car accident, and someone would see me in a car with months’ worth of McDonald's bags in the back seat. I mean, there would be a pile of trash around us if his car got shaken hard enough. I stopped myself; maybe I was being dramatic. Perhaps I was judging him unfairly. I asked him where we were going when he proceeded to say Applebee's. I'm not a fan of the place, but I preferred to get the date going so I could get home and text my girlfriends about the trash can he was driving in. As we walk into the restaurant, we sit down, and the conversation is like a game of Jeopardy! He was high and couldn't string thought to the next. And I got to be the only contestant on the show guessing why he was talking—a disaster. I'm sure he was floating above the table thinking he was saying lines right out of his favorite romance film, but it was far from that. He was stuttering and forgetting his point so often that I said, "nevermind, it doesn't matter," because it didn't. I had no plans of answering his texts or calls after this date.
The bill gets paid (and yes, he paid; because there was no way I was reaching for my bag). As we get up to leave, I step out of the booth first, and behind me, I hear a very loud "damn!" as I turn around to see what happened. It was my high date, staring at my backside with his eyes enlarged like two quarters. He didn't realize that I was staring at him in disbelief that he was now objectifying my body in front of everyone in the restaurant. He states, "Oh, my bad, I didn't realize you had ass." At this point, I wish I had a broomstick or two red shoes I could click together to get the hell out of Applebees and away from him.
As we got into the car, I refused to say a word. As he pulled up to drop me off, he asked if he could take me out again, at which point I proceeded to laugh and say, "no, I'm sorry." And I walked off. As I looked back, he was watching me walk away.
It was the worst date ever.
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