THE bad date

Previously, I stated that there is no such thing as a bad date. Well guys, I changed my mind because I just had the WORST DATE EVER. In the past I thought I had “bad” dates where I simply was not into the guy and I knew that I didn’t want to see him again. Yesterday, I had that sentiment in addition to actively DESPISING the man, redefining what I now refer to as a “bad date.” You may be thinking to yourself a series of questions: “I thought you were going to take a dating hiatus?”;”What could have been so bad about it?” ;“You are the queen of pre-date screening, how did you get a bad ‘read’ on this guy?”; etc, etc. Here is the story about how I dug my own grave and how I now know what it TRULY means to not like someone. 

Since this will be an extensive story about a man whom I have MANY opinions of and comments about (all negative), he needs a name. Let’s call him Don because he is the worst and that name is suiting #2020. Also, not to be too conspicuous or anything, but it’s pretty close to his real name. Oops! Okay so backstory: It was Wednesday night, and I was about 5 margs in with my friends Emily* (23) and Damien* (24), whom are both very infatuated with my ‘love’ life. Me, a notorious drunk DMer and drunk horndog decided I was going to be secretive and respond to all my Hinge ‘likes’ when I went to the bathroom between my transition from margs to a craft pale ale. The first two likes were straight ‘ew’ and made me question the Hinge algorithm, but then my drunk eye came across a 25 year old tall guy with dark features and a stache. I love a sexy statche, so naturally I matched with him. Minutes later, I’m back with Emily and Damien and Damien is already messaging Don for me, being way more forward about wanting to hang out with him than I would have been myself. Red flag #1: Don replied instantaneously. I later found out this was because he is unemployed. Considering we are living in the time of the ‘Rona and mass layoffs, I decided I would lower my standards for once and let that slide. I don’t want someone texting me instantaneously and in separate, bombarding messages unless they are my mother, boyfriend or very good friend and I need their immediate attention. However, because I was drunk and “on-one” I had aggressive back-to-back banter (with minimal true conversation where you learn about people’s interests, background, and basically anything else that would incline the rational person to go out with someone) with Don until I fell asleep watching TikToks. 

Unsurprisingly, I woke up with an uncharged phone, a headache, and THREE texts from an unsaved number asking what my plans for the day were. It was 7:15 am. It took me scrolling back through dozens of ridiculous texts to see that I had apparently told Donniboi over here that I hadn’t started work yet, so he was already trying to hang with me. Trying to make the most of my fun-employment, I had plans with a girl for brunch and a commitment to a friend around 4pm. Lucky for Don, I was all his for a sober, Thursday afternoon 9-hole 12:50 tee time. Woohoo! You may think this is shocking coming from me, but I truly entered this date open-minded, excited, and ready for a pleasant afternoon of golf and getting to know someone whom I thought I would be attracted to, both mentally and physically. 

Let the series of me questioning if I’ll ever find love again begin. So as I was finishing up brunch with my friend, this guy triple texted me and told me that he totaled his car a month ago so I’d need to pick him up. My mother has always warned me of getting into a car with a stranger, but me, being too nice and hoping for the best agreed to it. Fine. He lived in a fine area on the way to the course (I can’t forget to add that the course was 25 minutes away from his apartment). I pull up to the front of his building, and see him standing there. IMMEDIATELY, I regret my decision. He was clad in a maroon turtleneck, printed pants, and was about 30lb lighter than he depicted himself in his profile. Nothing is wrong with any of these things, it just is not what I expected. Before I could even shift my car into ‘Park’, he was banging on my trunk telling me to open it. Strike one. My trunk was not working correctly so I had to get out of the car and open it manually (first world problems), and when I stood next to him I was repulsed by his strong, stench. Either he had bad body odor or spent money on a cologne that was a girl repellant. When we got in the car, he started talking SO quickly and quietly, that it didn’t even seem real and I couldn’t even interpret anything he was saying. Me, already regretting this, and ALREADY almost shedding tears (T-god I alway wear my aggressively large sunglasses), put on a very “normal” playlist curated to my taste to have some background noise. Don had the AUDACITY to tell ME the DRIVER who was KINDLY DRIVING HIM that I should have already had the directions pulled up (even though I never knew the name of the golf course). As if my first 2 minutes with him weren’t bad enough, Don began criticizing every song I played. I almost forced him to exit my car when he started GOING THOUGH THE CONCEALED TRASH TRAY I keep in my dash area. In the midst of all these atrocious events, I was trying my best to “uh-huh” every once in a while in response to his rambling, and I even succumbed to the classic fake laugh to boost his ego.  We hadn’t even gotten to the course yet and your girl (me) was already done-zo. 

When I agreed to golf, I agreed to a par-3 course. For all you non-golfers out there, this would take maybe two hours. But oh no, apparently he signed us up for 9 holes on a real course, aka holes with more yardage to cover, which clearly indicates more time spent with this man (prob the same amount as the par 3 would have, but any second with him felt like an hour, and I just want your sympathy at this point). I’m always a fan of activities for dates in the early stages since it takes more pressure off of the conversation and you and your date can bond over a shared thing. Well guys, golf is NOT an activity for the early stages of dating. Yes, I did almost pull the “oh I actually may need to take my friend to the airport sooner than I thought, so I may need to leave after the 4th hole” and I DID do the move where I went to the bathroom to the side of the fairway to send a text to everyone I knew saying I may need someone to call me with an emergency and I shared my location with them so I couldn’t be easily abducted. Dramatic but necessary. 

From what I’ve said thus far, it may not seem like “Don” was that awful, but here is a bulleted list of everything he said/did (of what was traumatic enough for me to remember). 

  • Told me “I’m not surprised you would coordinate that teal Lululemon jacket with a North Face vest.” Like ok? I may be a tad ex-srat basic but that doesn’t need a comment. I’m sorry I am comfortable and cute. 
  • Commented about how much everything cost. I am not a fan about money talk and commenting how much everything costs (whether it’s tuition, a vacation, a golf bag, a type of turkey bacon, etc) it makes me uncomfortable. This is a sensitive topic, so I’m leaving that as it is.
  • DISAGREED with me about what the definition of a “surrogate” was (don’t ask why that was a point of convo), even when the TEXTBOOK definition is someone holding a baby that is created from third party sperm/egg. This sounds ridiculous, but it was a legitimate back-and-forth argument in which I KNEW I was right, and I let him have the last word after he said “I know my moms a doctor.” I could have told him that both my parents were doctors and my sister was in med school but it was frankly not worth my energy. I was in utter shock that I was having a legit dispute on a first date. This was not joking banter. I guess I can say I got to the point in a relationship where we had our first fight 🙂
  • Kept referring to his ex-gf. No need for further explanation.
  • Commented about his antidepressants and crippling anxiety. Yeah Don, I’ve been on them too and am currently on medication, but it doesn’t mean I’m flailing around this info on the golf course with someone who so clearly is not into me.
  • Criticized things I do with my friends, such as: go out to eat, go on day hikes, go on walks. Apparently, it’s a waste of time and pointless to go on a hike for social activity and exercise. 
  • Told me I would be a better person if I bought all my clothes at thrift shops. I have nothing against thrift shops, and actually buy a lot of things on Poshmark for that matter. I just don’t have the patience to sift through piles of clothes that I can’t easily filter to what I want. Don’t tell me where to buy my clothes, Don, and don’t you DARE tell me that this speaks to my character. 
  • ASKED HOW MUCH MONEY I’LL BE MAKING WHEN I START MY JOB. Guys, this TOPPED the cake. I think maybe only my mother, my paternal grandma, and my ex-boyfriend know that. My response was a snarky “you don’t need to know that.” 
  • Told me he hated kids when I said I’ve been babysitting. Anyone that knows me knows I LOVE cute munchkins, so this was just a turn off, as if I wasn’t already completely shut off from him.  
  • Had the audacity to hit off the women tees with me. As if him, a 6’2” male couldn’t drive the ball farther than me, a 5’2” female who golfs less than once a month. Also, this meant I had to spend more time with him and couldn’t have my own space at my own tee box. 
  • Bossed me around as to where I should place my golf bag. Um No
  • Told me he’s an introvert that likes to play video games all day. On a PC. Just not for me. 

Evidently I had a horrible time. So horrible that he pointed out I wasn’t taking any practice swings (he seemed impressed). Little did he know, I was just trying to GTFO of there as soon as I could. Could not waste ANY time!! Also, I would occasionally hit my ball to the other side of the fairway from where he hit on purpose, so that I didn’t have to walk beside him to find our balls. I declined his offer of carrying my bag too. I didn’t want to show any sign of weakness and sure as hell didn’t want him to transmit his revolting scent onto my wholesome hot-pink Titleist bag. 

I wish I was joking, but no, this was my Thursday afternoon. This may be hard to believe, but I outwardly projected myself kindly, and didn’t overtly give intense signals about my disdain for him. I was just way more reserved than I would have been with someone who I was actually into. The main issue was that I was not into him from the very beginning, so I noticed every minuscule thing that he subsequently did, which probably negatively skewed my already negative opinion of him. Thankfully, he must have been slightly perceptive of my lack of interest and sparse conversations, considering I have not heard from him since.  I could not imagine anyone whom I could be less compatible with in the Denver dating scene. 

Don, if you’re reading this, I actually did find you pleasant when you weren’t mansplaining me, interrupting me, and frankly – not talking. I’m sure your girl is out there somewhere and I’m happy we now know we are not each-other’s taste. From this experience, I learned that I need either someone to vouch for my next date, go back to my thorough investigator self, or simply hold conversations over the course of more than a mere 2 hour drunk banter session prior to committing to a date.  That would probably lead to better outcomes. I could only assume. 

One thought on “THE bad date

  1. hahaha, I ‘met’ a guy actually named Don and duped him as my husband but he wasn’t that into me sooo… I say ‘met’ in commas because we chatted away for 2 month and it was lovely until it wasn’t. I’m 33 and STILLLLLLL in this dating predicament. I’m actually in shock. Good luck!


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