Worst Dates

Small-Town Summer Confusion

In high school, I had a huge crush on a guy who was a year or two older than me. He was smart and relatively good-looking, so I was thrilled when he gave me his number before school ended. It took me a while to build up the courage but one day, after a pep talk from a friend, I called him and asked if he wanted to go to the county fair. He said yes. That day, we spent several hours walking around until it got pretty late. I was trying to spark conversation, but he seemed very nervous and didn’t say much. My curfew was getting close, so I asked him if he would give me a ride home — he had a car and I didn’t. He looked completely freaked out and told me no and he should be getting home, leaving me alone with no cell phone and no ride. I had to call my dad (who was already asleep) to pick me up. I never spoke to the guy again. Definitely my worst date ever.

Signed,
Exponent Writer Who Thinks that by 17, You Should No Longer be Afraid of Girls.

Just Tell Me Where You Live

Near the end of my senior year of high school, I took a girl I met at a volunteer event out. The date went well until I tried to take her home. I thought I remembered where she lived, but I didn’t want to look like an idiot, so I just asked her. I was almost positive I was in the right development, but she told me she lived “like 10 miles away” or something similarly ridiculous. Despite my prodding, she continued pulling my leg. After a few very uncomfortable minutes — in the middle of a deserted residential road — I pulled the car over and demanded to know where she lived. She still wouldn’t tell me, so I pulled into what I was pretty sure was her driveway.

She kept up her ruse, but I was tired of it by this point, so I killed the engine. If I remember correctly, she didn’t get a good-night kiss when she finally admitted I had found the correct house.

Signed,
A Man Who’s Not Afraid to Ask for Directions

Parental Supervision

My long-time, blonde-haired, blue-eyed crush asked me on a date the night of my 16th birthday. I didn’t have my license and he was only 15, so his parents gave us a ride to the restaurant. I thought they were only giving us a ride. Then they parked the car, exited with us, followed us in and proceeded to sit down at the same table. The date lasted two hours, and I don’t think either of us looked up from our water glasses once. His parents led the conversation and lectured us on the following: safe sex, table manners and dating to marry. Did it kill the mood? Well, let me say that I never went on a date with a 15-year-old again.

Signed,
A Girl Who Just Wanted a Sweet 16

The Worst Date is a Non-Date

I have never been on a date.

Signed,
One of the Exponent Staff, Try to Guess Which One

From Worse To Horrible

It makes me cringe every time I think about it. In high school, my truck wasn’t starting so I had to drive my mom’s mini-van to a date. That wasn’t so bad, until I turned a corner too sharp at a gas station and swiped the side of the van on a median.

Signed,
Surprised and Bemused that Girl Went out with Me Again

The Freaky Turkish Girl

While I can’t claim this event was a date, it was certainly the worst pseudo-romantic — perhaps more accurately sado-romantic — experience of my life. It was Halloween night and by 10 p.m., I had already lost my candy (a glorified euphemism, I know) twice due to over-intoxication. Standing outside the lavatory I met Yeliz, a Turkish exchange student. In what I can only assume to be the traditional greeting in her country, she slammed her fist into my stomach without a word. Needless to say, this brought me to my third and final rendezvous with the porcelain throne. The remainder of the night was punctuated with slaps and punches from Yeliz, broken with croonings of “Jason (not my name, incidentally), you’re so perfect.” I returned home the next day, hair disheveled with bruises and bite-marks on my face. I told my mom a branch fell on my face.

Signed,
Never Going Trick-or-Treating Again

Idiot

The summer before my junior year of high school, I finally hooked up with the guy I had liked for two years (and who happened to be one of my best friends). Not the best way to start a successful relationship, but it was high school. I was so excited to see him the next day, which was the first day of a two-week long camp we were both attending. He promptly hooked up with the prettiest girl at the camp (who was also my roommate).

The worst part? The friend in whom I had confided about the initial encounter saw fit to call my parents and inform them of the event, who then called his parents. The entire situation culminated in a forced coffee date with his mom, who proceeded to defend his behavior and berate me on my lack of knowledge about safe sex.

Sincerely,
She Who is Very Glad High School is Over.