The following is a collaborative piece between myself and JoAnna Basoukeas.
First dates. They are supposed to be fun, slightly awkward rites of passage that we all endure at some point. During the first date we sit there worrying more about how we look, especially when we eat, than what the other person is actually doing. First dates can go really well or terribly, terribly wrong.
The dating scene gets even weirder and more complicated when you embrace online dating apps. My friend began online dating when most of our friends went to college and she attended a local university. She developed a set of rules including: meeting in public, driving separately and keeping a friend on speed dial for emergency extractions. Even with these safety precautions there were a few instances when the dates got a bit dicey.
“There was the handsy guy who wouldn’t take no for an answer and followed me into my car, four or five guys who stood me up at the last minute, and the guy whose idea of a great date was having me over to nap.”
In the case of my friend and her Tinder date with a mysterious man named “Jake,” the date didn’t just go poorly —
it was an all-out disaster. This date takes the cake for being the flat-out worst date ever. She and Jake had been texting for a few days when he finally invited her to coffee. She stalked him via social media, as any normal girl would, only to find no clear pictures of his face. But she did find out they shared a mutual friend who assured her he was “a great guy,” so she agreed to the date. She mentioned,“Our date was on St. Paddy’s Day and I am a big believer in no drinking and driving, so I was relieved to be getting coffee. I decided to let him pick me up, and he was an hour late only to text me and let me know he was in my driveway.”
But that wasn’t all.
“He was driving a tricked-out station wagon that looked ready for a car show. I got in the car only to find a guy 30 pounds heavier than his pictures who had the tone of voice that screamed 'I’m better than everyone.' Not to mention his outfit included a brown leather jacket, sweatpants and thick-rimmed glasses.”
She decided to give him a chance anyways and look past the initial impression. They began driving, and after 15 minutes she finally asked where they were headed. His response?
“I'm pretty hungry actually. Want to go to this Mexican place I used to go to with my ex-girlfriend all the time? Her house is right over here and it’s at the end of her street.”
She bit her lip and refrained from asking to meet his ex-girlfriend. They arrived at the restaurant and sat down to order. Before even looking at the menu, Jake ordered the biggest margarita she’s ever seen, raising yet another red flag, but she again held her tongue.
“The waitress came back three times over the next 45 minutes, and he kept bragging to me about his drunk 'adventurous' stories the whole way through like he was a teenager that just tried drinking for the first time. One of the stories included him polishing off a fifth and wearing a coconut bra.”
Finally, he ordered food, slurring his words the whole way through and not even bothering to ask what she wanted, assuming he had picked something she would like. When the food arrived, he continued to tell her about how he and his friend (the one from earlier who assured her that he was “so great”) would “pull” waitresses from the local B-dubs and “bang them out in their garage.” He consistently referred to women as “sluts” and “bitches,” all the while my friend struggled to pretend the situation was totally OK. When she finished a slice of their quesadilla he remarked,
"You better eat that other piece."
Letting out a fake laugh, she said,
“I’m not too hungry, I ate right before I left the house.”
He looked back at her with a straight face and said,
“No, I'm paying for that, you better eat it."
The waitress came back, and he ordered another large margarita. When the waitress saw my friend's face she told "Jake,"
“What time is it? We actually stop serving at quarter to 10.”
He pressed the home button on his phone to check the time and snapped,
"It's quarter to. You better run."
My friend was in shock. She began texting friends that she may need to be picked up because her date was going downhill fast. The conversation played out like this:
She finally blurted,
“You cannot drive me home if you drink that.”
He laughed at her and said,
“I’m fine to drive. I have the most inconspicuous car in the world.”
More firmly this time, she said,
“There is no way you can finish that and drive me home.”
He rolled his eyes at her and blurted out,
“Well, do you know how to drive a stick?”
She started back at him and responded,
“No.”
He responded, as if this was a normal expression,
“Well I was thinking you could drive us back to your house and I’ll just sleep in your driveway tonight.”
She was mortified. When he offered her the opportunity to allow her to help him finish the drink, she began chugging only to have him yank the drink from her because she was drinking too much. Oh, and of course he left the waitress no tip.
When they drove home and he offered to take her with him to Kentucky that weekend, she politely declined. And as soon as they got home, she jumped out of the car and he stopped her dead in her tracks to hug her goodbye. While she walked inside he yelled out,
“Hey, you know this was an awesome first date because I’m not peeing in your driveway!”
Needless to say, she’s convinced me to avoid Tinder for a while, and if someone pulls up in a station wagon, I’m running the other way.
