Some dates go down in history as the greatest night ever. You regale your friends with tales of how much chemistry was flowing between the two of you. Each hour between texts is agonising as you wait for them to respond. And there are those dates that you can’t wait to leave. Those horrific moments that you gossip with your friends about. These are the dates that almost linger in your mind longer than those amazing ones.
It’s been almost two years since this horrific date and I will never forget it. I hadn’t thought about it months until I was out with my man and trading horror stories. Lesson learnt from this conversation: women seem to suffer more bad dates than men, and women are apparently more susceptible to horrible sex. After telling the boyfriend about this horrific experience, I decided it should be shared with the world.
The meeting happened over Tinder, obviously all bad dates come from Tinder. We chatted for almost two weeks before actually meeting because he was out of town for some of the week and I was busy with Uni. The banter was ok, he seemed unable to sense sarcasm… first warning sign. Unfortunately, my witty banter is almost exclusively sarcasm. We had some things in common, but I was honestly grasping at straws in order to make some chemistry happen. He was nice, polite, and not talking to me about sex, of course I was attempting to create some connection. Anywho, our date eventually happened on a Friday night. It was to be in the city.
NOTE: I am a suburban girl and unashamed, I am uncool and unhip, I rarely travel and bar hop in the city because I have no clue of where to go.
So I drove to his place in the near outer suburbs of the city and met him outside his place. It was assumed I may have to crash because we were going drinking. After a few weeks of chatting, I felt ok crashing, if I thought he was a creep I could feign illness and drive myself home. The second the date began I could tell there was probably going to be no chemistry or sparks. He was nice enough but boring. Nothing charming about him, nothing overly humorous, and he seemed kind of awkward around me. Despite this feeling I ploughed on hoping for the best and being open to this date. We went bar hopping and this seemed perfect at making the night more fun. My first big warning of the night was… he didn’t offer to a) pay for any of my drinks, and b) didn’t go into any drinks rounds with me despite the fact I attempted to initiate this and buy him a drink when I went up to the bar. I’m sorry, I may be a modern day girl but if I buy you a f***ing drink, at least offer to buy one back. OR if you finish your drink and I’ve finished mine maybe ask me if I’d like another one. VERY VERY RUDE. I was pretty turned off at this point, and very shocked. He knew I was working part time and studying, while he was working full time. If this is the case then at least go halvesies. So far the date was uninspiring.
Fast forward a few more bars and a dozen more drinks, we were back at his place watching a movie on his bed. Obviously this is where you cue the kissing and touching. The intimate moments began and it was nice, nothing special. Continue along and he’s trying his best to impress me and we’re naked. It’s safe to say this little solider was not going to make the cut. I was lying there awkward and bored. To make matters worse…. when the big moment finally came and he climbed on top and began trying his hardest I knew something was terribly wrong. I don’t exaggerate a single moment of this, the second he started one thought ran through my mind; “Is it in?”
I kid you not, nothing was felt. The sinking feeling of realising yes in fact he was in, was more depressing than I could have imagined. This horror story continued when he pulled out and the condom clean fell off and was left behind inside me. The poor dude lost all ability to keep it on when he went down. I will never forget the awkward moment of pulling it out of myself…
Well, that was it. The worst date ever. I spent a lot on drinks, had no orgasm, and felt no spark. A lack of orgasm is always forgiven if the spark is there, I mean no one finishes the first time, but without the spark there’s no reason trying again. I’m not proud, but after the incident I was so awkward I just left it, I ghosted him and I never thought I would be the kind of person to do that. My one main lesson learnt from this experience… just hold out for the person who gives you butterflies because anything less than that is a waste of my time.