Datemares (vol. 4)

All right, guys. We've been at this for several volumes now (1, 2 and 3 to be exact. AND men's stories, too), but I think you all agree with me when I say I NEVER WANT IT TO STOP. Please, please, please, please email me your dating horror story (male or female) because, as you can see by now, we're all in this together (emmasthing @ gmail).

Today's volume brings us robes, minivans, rats, and leather slide loafers. Let's dive in.


I went out with a guy one night, and we ended up back at his place. I was attracted enough to makeout with him, but in my mind it wasn't going to escalate into much more than a major makeout sesh.

As things heated up, he suggested that I go upstairs and "get comfortable" by changing into his bathrobe. I ignored him, but after a little more groping, he insisted again and it was starting to piss me off. We'd only been out a few times, and I wasn't gonna put on his robe and present myself to him for ravaging. So when he insisted for the THIRD time, whispering that he would "take me somewhere special" (like where — to Penis Town?), I pretended to capitulate up and made a performance out of ascending the stairs to fetch the robe. When I came back down, I slowly opened the robe to reveal myself to him, but had simply placed it over my clothing. He was LIVID. His face became red, contorted, and ugly. He told me it was "time for me to go home," and that he was INCENSED because I had "insulted and mocked" him. Whatever. DOUCHE! 

emma's reaction: I would say this is probably the best clap back I've ever read about. From one no bullshit woman to another: BRAVO. And for a dude to get THAT mad about it? What a humorless asshole. I will say, though, I have been to Penis Town a few times in my life and it's very hit or miss and, by the sounds of this rOBSESSED douche canoe, I'm gonna say it would've most assuredly been a MISS.


Early in my twenties, one of my co-workers offered to set me up. Too scared to say no, I agreed to go. The guy sounded good on paper: older, successful, funny, Jewish, and in my zip code (thanks, Aziz). So, we went out.

I'll admit — date #1 was really fun. We went to a cute Italian spot for dinner, he was charming and easy to talk to. Things were checking out, so naturally, I agreed to date #2.

Big mistake. HUGE.

Our second date was TERRIBLE. He picked me up in a minivan, took me to see "Peter Pan," and during intermission held my hand and said "I can't wait for you to meet my parents." The show wrapped up and, even though it was literally 10º in Chicago, he INSISTED we walk a mile to his favorite restaurant: California Pizza Kitchen. All throughout dinner, he was coming on really strong, talking a mile a minute, and brought up meeting the parents AGAIN. After dinner, he dropped me off and walked me up to my building. I said, "Thanks for a nice night. I feel like we are on different pages, and maybe we should slow this down," which I realize is insane to have to say after two dates, but there we were. He did NOT like that. He started yelling at me, letting me know that he was a lawyer who made SOOO much money and "DID I KNOW WHAT HIS BILLING RATE IS?!" He kept insisting I had wasted his time.

Needless to say, I never saw him again until he emailed me a year later to let me know he was dating someone I knew and how happy he was. I hope the two of them are very happy in Neverland. GOOD RIDDANCE.

emma's reaction: What is the fucking deal with men getting and showing legitimate anger toward women for being honest??? And they say WE'RE emotional?! GIVE ME A BREAK (and a BLT pizza because, honestly, that shit is so good). This dude sounds creepy as all fuck. Between the van, his movie selection, the forcing you to walk in the bitter cold to a chain restaurant, and screaming in your face about the world of wealth you're missing out on, I hope you ordered TWO strawberry lemonades to put him out a little.


The guy was in his mid 30s and seemed normal (emma sidenote: Don't they always?). We decided to meet up at a restaurant/bar in the Design District in Dallas. I had never been there and thought it was a cool and casual choice for a first date. 

The place had long family style tables and and an open kitchen, and we were seated at the end of a table near the kitchen, which he was facing.

He, of course, didn't look like his pictures and our conversation/chemistry was not flowing, but I was hanging in there. Once we had placed our orders, he suddenly goes: "OMG OMG. Don't freak out, but I just saw a RAT run by in the kitchen!" I obviously freaked out and turned around totally grossed out, but didn't see anything. He then started laughing and said, "I'm just kidding. Or am I?!" He kept using this joke THE REST OF THE DATE. Literally, he would go: "Oh shit there it is again! I'm serious this time!" then "OMG there's another one! Just kidding, HAHA!" It was so upsetting, and the more reaction I gave the more he got into it.  

I couldn't tell if he was trolling me, trying to be funny, or if there really was a rat — I just wanted out ASAP. The date finally ended and, on the drive home, he called me.  For some stupid reason, I answered (ugh). He said, "I wish you didn't have to leave our date so soon. Why don't you go home, put your JAM-JAMs on and we can cuddle over the phone?"

HORRIFYING! To this day, I can't decide if the rat jokes or JAM-JAMs comment was worse! And, worst yet, I can't bring myself to go back to that restaurant because I'm still really not sure about the rats.

emma's reaction: K so, this guy is a psycho? Not only is that not funny the first time, but I can gar-UHN-tee it's not funny the second, third, or seventh time. It sounds like he had pretty much nothing to talk about or any good bullshit to spout off about. And then to top it off with a JAM-JAMS comment? JAM-JAMS. REALLY? I wish you would've committed to trolling him the rest of your life by sending him pictures of rats in pajamas. 


I had finally decided that online dating was my best bet. It was one thing to meet an attractive, worthy, marriage candidate in a bar or while I was working out. But I had a son. And I go to bed at 8pm. And I hate people. So why not scour the hordes of men online to determine who would get the pleasure of being chosen by me?

Turns out I suck at choosing men. Enter: Brandon. 

Brandon quickly became a candidate. Charming. Attractive. Funny. Good conversationalist. I even talked to him on the phone and he didn't sound creepy. OMG — had I really found someone in the first week of online dating? This was clearly meant to be. 

My guard must have been down, because I decided to go on a first date with him at a drive-in movie theater over an hour away. And have him pick me up at my home. And have him drive us out there. At nighttime.

Now, hold on. I know what you're thinking. What kind of mother does that? Well, a bad one. However, I did meet him at the leasing office of my complex so he wouldn't know exactly which unit was mine. But, other than that, I'm an idiot (does it count that this was three years ago and I was young and immature?).

So. The date. 

I'll admit, I was excited. A drive-in movie?! How romantic! OMG what kind of car would he drive? OMG I bet he smells good*.

*Spoiler alert: He was for sure wearing some type of Axe spray 8th grade boys use to cover up their newly-developed musks. 

He pulled up in a loud Camaro. I should have run then. He didn't even get out, introduce himself, get my door. Nothing. But what did I do? I got in the car. He barely looked at me. In fact, I hardly had the door closed before he screeched out of the round-about of my apartment complex. 

I waited a solid four minutes before asking him to turn down the '90s alternative rock that I swore off in college so that we could carry on a conversation. Now I only had to fill 56 minutes of driving before our date would even begin. Oh god. 

Oh and, of course, he looked nothing like his photos. I mean, he could've if it was four years earlier and without filters. But not today with a bad car and zero social skills added to it. Alas, I decided I would give him the benefit of the doubt. 

He spent the entire car ride talking about himself, weaving in and out of traffic, and verbally confirming with each statement that he had zero things in common with me. At that point, he still had barely looked at me. When he stopped talking and the silence was awkward, he finally asked, "So what about you?" I didn't even know what to say after he had divulged to me that he wanted to run bars for a living, he never slept, he was a night owl, and that he loved to party. 

He told me he was going to pick the movie we saw that night, and that it was going to be a surprise. Ok.  

Once we were parked, he spread out a blanket for a "picnic" and placed a thin vase in the middle of it. He then placed one single carnation inside. Hold on. A fucking carnation? Camaro man then proceeded to bring out a cooler, pull out cold crustless sandwiches, Bud Light Lime in cans, and say, "Girls usually like these."

I hate beer.

So, there I was. Sitting on a blanket on the lumpy ground, starring at my single carnation, watching Goosebumps (yes, that's what we chose for u)s at a drive-in movie with an ugly, narcissistic, Bud Light Lime-from-the-can-drinking asshole.

Not only was I watching Goosebumps, I spent the night covered in them.

I wish I could say that it ended there, but it didn't. I didn't realize at the time that the worst was yet to come. To this day, I have no idea how I got through that movie. He stroked my cheek at one point and tried to kiss me. I almost threw up the now-warm beer I was choking down. 

After the movie, we got back into the car. He "was having such a good time," he told me. I nodded politely and tried not to spray mace into his beady eyeballs. 

He then tossed his LOAFER SLIDES into the backseat. Yes, you read that correctly. Our leading man, Brandon — the Camaro-driving beer-can drinker wanna-be bar owner, wore leather loafer slides to our first date. He "liked to drive barefoot" and "would that be okay?" 

At this point, I'm not sure I even remembered how to speak anymore. He peeled out of the parking lot, driving barefoot. And decided to go for the casual "hand on the leg" for our romantic hour-long trek home. 

I kept looking at his feet.They had a thick layer of black hair on the tops and each of his toes. That was bad enough, but you know how people tap their fingers on a surface to a song? This man spent the drive home tapping his toes like that to the beat of awful rock music to the likes of Offspring and Fall Out Boy. 


I spent the drive (while he was still talking about himself) texting my mother the horrors of today's dating scene, and praying I made it home as he sped down the Tollway going 90MPH. 

He asked if he could come in. I said no. I then went inside and was the woman in every movie scene who slams the door, locks every lock, and slides down the door in fear and terror. What I heard next was startling — my phone. It was ringing. It was him. I answered.

He spoke for roughly five minutes about how he had had a great time and could we do it again sometime? He couldn't believe we found each other. I wasn't like other girls. I was honest with him and told him I wasn't interested in a second date. He then yelled at me about how I wasn't even that pretty, had wasted his time, and that he didn't want to be some stepdad to some bastard child anyway. 😃

Looking back, the only thing I'm thankful for is that he knocked down the hour-long car ride to roughly 42 minutes by unknowingly auditioning for 2 Fast 2 Furious. Thank god.

emma's reaction: Listen. This is a no judgment zone. I've gotten in too many cars I shouldn't've to count, so I GET IT. I'm actually impressed y'all talked on the phone pre-date. Who wouldn't trust that? I'm just sorry he turned out to be, what sounds like, the douchiest douche in all the douche land. CRUSTLESS sandwiches and canned beer. That's so confusing. Like, are we in elementary school or teens sneaking out in the middle of the night? PICK A SIDE. And the slide loafers. Just. I can't. Also, how was Goosebumps? Just kidding. I'm sure it sucked ass.

So, what did we learn here today?

1: If he asks you to slip into his robe, maybe fart in it.

2: Lawyers are very rich and important and enjoy the finer things in life, like very confusing menus full of various cuisines.

3: Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, you might have a weird thing with rats.

4: Keep a first date within 10 minutes of your home, and bail at the first sign of leather slides.

Until next time...