When we asked Queerty readers about their worst dates, we expected some lighthearted tales about sitting across from someone who chewed with their mouth open or encountering a person with loathsome politics. Little did we know… many of you have been involved in full blown horror stories!
There are many ways to connect with perspective partners: fortuitous meet-cutes, blind matchmaking, swiping right on your app of choice. But through the years, there remains only one way to date: see the other person face-to-face. Though by the end of these dreadful-sounding rendezvous, we wouldn’t blame any of our respondents if they covered their eyes.
From encountering violent criminals to being completely deceived, Queerty readers have been through the wringer. Here’s what they had to say…
What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on and why you did you handle it?
How about we take this to the next level?
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“Decades ago when I was in my 20s, I met a very charming, slightly older man. I thought he was so handsome and worldly. I don’t recall how we met but it wasn’t the ‘Hi, my name is… let’s hop into bed’ kind of meeting. We exchanged numbers and had a few conversations on the phone (yes, I’m that old)! He told me about himself and how enamored he was with me, etc. He eventually asked me out on a proper date. He suggested I dress semi-formal, so I bought new slacks, a new shirt, a new coat, new shoes and all that we did to prepare for a proper date back in the day. He came to my apartment to pick me at my door. We drove to the (French) restaurant in his Mercedes. It was a magical evening for me. Fine dining, champagne, the whole works. We spent what seemed like hours talking and enjoying each others company and I was beginning to look forward to what might come next. At that point the check came and without blinking he then told me what my half of the bill was. I (calmly) explained to him that HE asked ME out and at no point was splitting the bill mentioned ahead of time. I was scraping by on minimum wage, which he knew, and would have declined the fancy restaurant had he been upfront with me. Instead, I simply excused myself to go to the restroom, went to the pay phone, called a cab and left with my new (expensive) jacket and surprisingly never heard from him again! No dramatics, no scene to be caused, just a simple, quiet and dignified exit. I always had cab fare just in case. Ahhhhh, lessons learned!” — Keith in Long Beach, California
We begin with a doozy. Keith’s older man of mystery violated a sacred rule: sticking your poor date with a bill that he didn’t expect. While we support “going Dutch,” splitting the check isn’t appropriate when somebody with a much higher income asks someone with a much lower income to eat at a fancy French restaurant, and then proceeds to order pricey champagne and hors’ devours. We call that class-less! We’re glad that Keith kept his cab fare, along with his dignity.
“I once dated someone who spoke English—terrible idea. It’s much more interesting trying to understand what someone is saying, than hearing about ‘locking in.’” — Tom in Chicago
Hmm… we’ve gone on lots of dates with English speakers who don’t drone on about “locking in” or other nauseating phrases. There are approximately 2 billion English speakers in the world. Maybe Tom is being a bit judgmental? That said, we totally support dating people who speak all sorts of different dialects. But we have to ask, does Tom speak other languages himself? If not, we wonder whether the conversation ever hits a wall. Perhaps that’s for our next query.
“The guy smoked too many cigarettes, and his breath smelled so bad. I ended up kissing him and swapped out my gum into his mouth. Hopefully he got the hint.” — Samuel in Brooklyn, New York
In some circumstances, a gum-swap can be hot. We’re salivating over the shared saliva! But after reading Samuel’s story, we’re quivering. Here’s a friendly piece of advice to the smokers out there: bring your own gum, or at least a breath mint.
“I was leaving a bar with a guy I was seeing when he approaches a man on the patio outside said bar. ‘I know you,’ the guy I’m dating remarks. Confused, the other man responds, ‘I’m so sorry; I don’t recall where we met.’ My date proceeds to remind this stranger where they met, and either being nice or remembering where they met, the stranger concedes, ‘Oh that’s right, nice to see you again.’ At this point, the guy on the patio acknowledges me, introduces himself, and then asks how our night is going, making pleasantries. My date then uttered something that left me aghast: ‘Yeah, you were a real a-hole to me, and I just needed to tell you that,’ before storming away, leaving me holding the bag. I apologize to the other man, telling him I had no idea what that was about. Later, on the walk home, my date gets mad at me and accuses me of ‘siding’ with the other guy. I promptly ended things that night and haven’t seen him since.” — Champ in West Hollywood
That whole interaction sounds needlessly toxic, never mind uncomfortable. We understand harboring ill-feelings over a bad interaction. But c’mon, time and place! For Champ’s date, the real power play would’ve been walking past that guy with his head held high and Champ in his arms. Too bad his need to settle some sort of score ruined that.
“When I was barely out of my teens, I went on a date with an older man in his 30s. He took me to a nice dinner, then afterwards he took me to his office. We were in the elevator making out and everything was going great. The office was dark, closed and no one was there, except for a cleaning lady, who we surprised as much as she surprised us. When the elevator doors opened, we were in a rather compromising position. This was in the mid/late ‘80s. We made our way to what I would call a waiting area with a big white/cream leather sofa and large carpeted floor space in front of the sofa. We proceeded to make out, get friendly and undress each other. Everything was going great, until he decided he wanted to F me. I consented, but after a couple of minutes it began to hurt…. badly. I asked him to stop, and told him he was hurting me. That seemed to make him go harder and I could not get away. He finally finished and fell asleep on the floor. I got dressed and left with him still asleep on the floor without clothes. No idea what happened or if the cleaning lady found him and really didn’t care.” — Shannon in Florida
We are so sorry, Shannon. Given the time period–and the fact that he whisked back to his empty office–it seems like your date was battling some major personal demons. Here’s hoping that cleaning lady reported him, either to the authorities or at least his place of employment. What a creep.
“I was really excited about this guy—we were talking online for days! The conversation was hot, steamy and immediate. We agreed to meet at a nearby bar and I sat there… waiting, waiting, waiting. He never showed, and I never heard from him again.” — Stood Up in NYC
Ah, the follies of meeting someone online. You think they’re a normal and well-adjusted person, only to get ghosted. Context clues indicate that “Stood Up’s” date wasn’t out, or was perhaps cheating on his partner and din’t want to go through with the evening. Either way, we bet there was some dishonesty going on. The fact that he didn’t show is probably for the better.
“I was on Match.com some years ago. There were 10 dates. Yes, a few were not at all how they presented themselves, but only one had a picture that was obviously was not him. Here’s my point: I simply looked at it with a good attitude and not to expect anything. Even though there were no matches, I enjoyed myself and hopefully they did too.” — Tom in Florida
When it comes to the crap shoot of online dating, that’s the best mentality to have.
“I was 35 and single. I generally dated men my age or younger. But this time, I decided to go out of my box and agreed to go on a date with an older man. The gentleman was over 50. He was a tall, handsome silver fox kind of guy. He told me he was a doctor, had a beautiful condo and drove a Mercedes. At that time, I worked in the medical equipment field and that was how we met over the phone. He was ordering something for a patient. We agreed to a movie and dinner. I met him at the theater and we saw the movie Magnolia. The beginning of the movie was a younger man taking care of an older man. My date leaned over and whispered to me that will be us someday. RED FLAG No. 1.!
“After the movie, he asked to meet him at his condo. It was maybe at that time a 25-30 year old apt complex turned into half condos. The place smelled of moth balls. RED FLAG No. 2! He said, ‘Why don’t we stay in?’ He had been making his famous beef stew. Then, I heard a can opener. He was heating up canned beef stew. RED FLAG NO. 3! I came up with a story that I didn’t meat and should go. The next day, I spoke to someone and was told he was a counselor at a local AA and drove a Ford Tempo—not a Mercedes. The equipment he was ordering for a patient? It was actually a walker for his mom, who he lived with in *her* condo. We didn’t have a second date.” — Huron in Ohio
Huron, we’re speechless! Not that that’s anything wrong with driving a modest car or living with your mom. But yeah, all of that lying and misrepresentation. 
indeed!
“I was having dinner at a restaurant with a guy I met at a party. It was going well until, when I was in the middle of a sentence, he interrupted me to say, referring to a nearby busboy, ‘Man, I just wanna suck on his nipples!’ My prayers were answered: as soon as he left to use the rest room, I left the restaurant. And I had the last laugh: we drove there in my car! I was quite happy to drive home alone.” — Roger in Palm Springs
But what if he wanted to suck on your nipples, Roger? Would you have left him then?
“I met a lovely man at the gym. We decided to go on a double date with another couple whom we both knew. My date said he had a friend in town and asked if he could join us. My date and his ‘friend’ spent the ENTIRE dinner feeling up and down each other’s legs. I had two choices: put $50 on the table and walk out OR take the high road and finish the meal. I did the latter.” — Robert in Palm Springs
That’s ballsy–no pun intended! But at least the meal was worth finishing, even if the date wasn’t.
“I invited a guy to my house for drinks before going out for dinner. During the conversation, he offhandedly mentions that he was recently released from prison. Trying to be equally nonchalant I ask, ‘Oh, why were you in prison?’ To which he replied, ‘murder.’ I asked if it was an accident. He said no! I waited about 15 minutes before I fake yawned and said, ‘Wow! I’m more tired than I usually am on a Friday night. It’s been a hellish week at work. I don’t think I’m really up for dinner.’ Reluctantly, he left… to my great relief! The next day, he sent me an email telling me how rude I was for cutting the date short.” — Rob in San Francisco
And… end scene! In defense of the convicted murderer, it sounds like he’s learned better ways to express his frustration? A tersely worded email cuts to the core.
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