Datemares (vol. 5)

It has been a hot minute since I blessed you all with amazingly terrifying date stories (or Datemares as I like to call them). Today's batch includes a non-drinking prankster, a shirtless ref, watermelon vodka, and a baby daddy. Gird your loins and SEND ME YOUR STORIES. emmasthing @ gmail, bitches.


Early in my twenties, I was living in Dallas and feeling a little anxious about finding "The One." I decided to throw caution to the wind and let the internet algorithms decide who I should end up with. This was prior to all of the apps available now, so I signed up for eHarmony. That sentence made me old AF. 

Initially, I just enjoyed laughing at some of the guys I was paired with. After a few weeks, I started finding a few dudes I was actually interested in and started messaging back and forth. One such gentleman was a high school basketball coach from a small town right outside of the metroplex. We graduated from messaging to phone calls and text exchanges and finally set up a date! I was equal parts excited and mildly terrified. 

I agreed to let him pick me up outside of my apartment building. He didn't get out of the car when I came down to meet him so I didn't get a full-body look at him until we got arrived at the restaurant. This guy was a good 3" shorter than the height he had indicated on his dating profile, which was already on the short side of my preferences. I felt positively Amazonian in my low-wedge flats. He also clearly loved the gym, and perhaps some performance enhancing drugs, because his arms did NOT touch his sides. He was straight up walking like Ah-nold. 

At dinner, he asked me, "So, why are you still single?" Since we were both on a dating site FOR SINGLES, I thought this was an odd question. Did he expect me to give him a laundry list of my idiosyncrasies? He then proceeded to tell me about his ex, who he described as "crazy" and said that she just stopped talking to him one day (red flag!). 

I had made the rookie mistake of not having my own car, so I continued on with this date. Our next stop was a comedy show. We were seated at a table with two other couples who ended up being my saviors. I talked to them the entire time we were there while my date downed shots.

I drove his car back to my place and sent him on his way with a side hug, thankful the night was over. I did not think it was a love connection for either of us, so I was confused when he immediately texted me to tell me what a great time he had. I sent back a generic reply and didn't think any more about him. 

The next weekend, I headed down to Austin to see my best friend and watch my alma mater play UT. I had apparently told him that I was doing this at some point during our date the weekend before, and he clung to the information. He incessantly texted me random things throughout my Friday evening that I didn't respond to. Then, on Saturday morning, I woke up to a shirtless photo of him. Wearing a referee's hat. With a whistle in his mouth. 

The photo was captioned "Your school will 'officially' get an ass-kicking." The worst part? Both of his hands were visible in the photo and phones didn't have self-timers back then, meaning someone ELSE took the picture and told him it was a good idea to send it. I can't.

emma's reaction: It amazes me how much guys don't pick up on massive social cues. Like, Bro With The Arms — she's not texting you back and, when she does, showing little to no enthusiasm. But yeah — you should definitely go ahead and send her a picture that no self-respecting, classy, sane woman would ever find attractive. FOR SURE. Also, this is neither here nor there, but I have a feeling his wee wee was super tiny. Maybe even a micro wee wee. It's just a gut feeling. 


I made it to date three with a guy. No major red flags, we had enough chemistry to keep going, I enjoyed his company, etc etc etc. We meet at a dive bar for beers and food. We start talking about ourselves, kinda laying our real cards on the table, chatting about why we were on [redacted dating app], etc. He then lays this on me:

He had just recently ended a relationship with a married coworker. Now, I’m not one to really judge and despite my body literally sealing itself up and realizing that this was now not going ANYWHERE, I wanted to see where the conversation headed. So, I encouraged him to tell his tale. 

He proceeds to tell me that he had been having a long-term affair with this woman who was 22. She had also just had a child with her husband. I believe they had been married for less than two years? 

So, the big question: Why did they end said affair? Well, she found out she was pregnant. Again. But this time didn’t know who the father was. That’s right, the poor woman is gonna be 23 with two kids, one of which she isn't sure who's the Zaddy. 

At this point, I’d been slamming beers as fast as possible to turn my repulsion into fascination. I keep asking him questions about the affair and how he felt because I'm a glutton for punishment. I asked him if it was weird that she was essentially cheating on him with her husband. Apparently this dude didn’t care, stating “They're husband and wife and that’s what you do when you’re married.” Ah, gotcha.

I asked him if he wanted to know if the kid was his. “I told her I don’t want her to find out because I am not raising it. I will probably set up a college fund or something, but I don’t want any contact until the kid is at least 18.” K.

Oh, and apparently the husband had some idea of something happening but chose to never make it an issue. No clue about that.

I’m SO drunk at this point, because I don’t know what else to do. I make my excuses as to why I need to cut the night short (because it seemed dramatic to explain that I lost all respect for him and needed to go home to shower off the contact shame I had). He tells me he’s impressed I took everything so well, and we part ways. I don’t step foot into my apartment before he calls me to tell me that HE RAN INTO THE WOMAN, HER HUSBAND, and her baby (her and her husband’s baby, for those keeping track) on his walk home. Small world, huh?

I literally had no idea how to end it with this guy without sounding incredibly condescending and judgmental. So I did the chicken shit thing and was just too busy to hang out every time he offered. 

I understand that people make unwise choices and can find themselves in unusual situations, but I have no idea what this dude thought would happen by telling me this story. The worst part is that he just seemed completely unaffected by the fact that there MAY OR MAY NOT BE SOME KID OUT THERE WITH HALF OF HIS GENETIC MAKEUP. 

emma's reaction: The most horrific thing about all of this is that he expressed how impressed he was by how you took this terrible, despicable, not at all chill piece of information. Like. Oh! Oh, you're impressed? I'm so glad. Also, I love that you kept pressing for more details once you realized how grave and never-again the situation was because I would've done the exact same thing. And now you have a fantastic story to tell. So, maybe you won overall. He, however, did not. 


So, this was a little over a year ago at the end of what I’ve lovingly labeled my “hoe year” in which I finally stopped caring so damn much and embraced dating for the fun of it. It was New Year's Eve, and after running into not one but two of my exes in the same bar, I was being literally chased around by a guy I’d just met that same evening. He was a good friend of my BFF’s boyfriend — a sweet but “eh” boy who almost followed me into the ladies room during the midnight countdown. I figured what the hell, and let him kiss me at midnight and gave him my number. Mistake #1. 

1-2 days later, he asked me on a first real date... to Main Event. 😑 I accept, and it’s a very normal nice first date, even in spite of the laser tag and bowling involved. He lets me win at pool, and I say I’d like to see him again. Mistake #2. 

Cut to our second date AKA the worst date of my life. We had planned dinner and a movie, but crazy Oklahoma weather had other plans for me. A random ice storm forced a change of plans. I again convince myself that he’s nice, so we can just shift the date to my place in order to be smart and not drive into the icy death trap outside. 

So, he comes over and we hit the liquor store down the block because I was out and what else are you gonna do during an ice storm? He picks out — I shit you not — a bottle of Smirnoff WATERMELON vodka and APPLE-FUCKING-BURNETTS. Now, I’m not one to judge too harshly for people's beverage of choice. To each their own, right? WRONG. We get back and start up a movie and he is pounding this watermelon vodka. Halfway through the movie, he’s halfway through the bottle. He's getting handsy as hell, and I start to panic. My red flag womanly instinct kicks in, and I beg my BFF and her boyfriend to brave the ice storm and PLEASE come over.

By the time the calvary arrived, the ENTIRE bottle of watermelon vodka was gone (for the record: I didn't have a sip of it). Which I have never seen someone do in real life. I’m talking 1 bottle in maybe 3 hours. He’s busy opening up the apple vodka when I take my BFF and her boyfriend into my front bathroom to let them know that I’d like him the GTFO. We had never agreed that he could sleep over or get shit-faced or anything of the sort. So, we exit the bathroom and this dude is already laying in my bed,  snuggled up waiting for me to just climb in with him. We try to get him out. He literally pushes my BFF out of the room. He is blackout assface stupid, and the nightmare concludes with him nearly fighting his friend in the most dramatic putting-a-drunk-to-bed I’ve ever witnessed. There were tears (from me), yelling, and thank god no vomit (from him). We end up having to lock my dog and me in my room to keep him away from me. Yet he still gets up to jiggle the doorknob in the middle of the night. Thankfully, my BFF and her boyfriend are able to shoo him out of my house first thing in the morning.

The next day, he begged like a Bachelorette villain for another chance to “get to know such an amazing person like me” and could not remember a single thing from the night before. I had the pleasure of sharing with him all the reasons he should never drink watermelon vodka or see me again. He thanked me and promised to never bother me again — and he kept his word.

I still have the half empty bottle of Apple Burnetts in my freezer and it haunts me whenever I notice it. Spring cleaning item #1: throw that shit out. 

emma's reaction: Did you buy your BFF and her boyfriend 100 gifts after that? Take them to dinner? Offer to give them your firstborn? Because WOW. Forever indebted, I would say. That entire story sounded borderline scary, actually. To have a drunk AF almost-stranger in your home during an inescapable weather situation? I'm just so thankful your friends came and saved the day and sorry that this drunk ass turned out to be unstable and an alcoholic. And have the absolute worst taste in liquids, my god. 


First things first, in your guy dating horror stories, one contributor mentioned that somebody who passionately says they don’t drink is sketchy. I wholeheartedly agree and think this should be considered an all-encompassing dating red flag. Let me tell you why. 

I met this guy on Tinder (back when it was just starting out) and he seemed really interesting. He was handsome, a business owner, and liked to travel — what’s not to like? So we met up at a local restaurant, and upon sitting down and beginning some casual chit chat, I mentioned that the drinks there were amazing and that we had to get one. 

He looked at me with an expression similar to if I had just said, “Hey, let’s go kick some puppies for fun!” 

He then went on to passionately exclaim that he does not drink and that alcohol has never touched his virgin lips. Half concerned, half curious, I asked this 26-year-old man why he had never taken a sip of alcohol in his life. Was it religious? Was there a family history of drinking? 


“I just never had any interest.” 

Alrighty then. 

I brushed off his look of hatred towards me as I sipped on my Moscow Mule and tried to move past this extremely uncomfortable start to our date. We eventually got the conversation flowing again, and someway, somehow, ended up on the topic of April Fool’s Day. 

Suddenly, he got really excited and exclaimed that he had pulled the funniest prank EVER last year. Obviously I asked him to explain. I regretted my decision very quickly. 

Let me just start with this: he began his story with the precursor that the prank started six months before April Fool’s Day. 

He went on to tell me that long before April Fool’s Day, he had a friend whose female roommate was single and not really interested in dating. So naturally, he talked her into letting him change his relationship status to “in a relationship” with her on Facebook. 

Through his laughter, he told me those six months were hilarious because his friends would always ask about her and his mom would often call him crying asking him why he wouldn’t introduce his girlfriend to the family. He said it was difficult to lie, but he stayed diligent and stuck to it. 

Until April 1st. Now it was officially go time. 

So on that April morning, he proudly told me that he changed his Facebook relationship status from “in a relationship” to “engaged”. 

People were reaching out non-stop. Everybody was telling him what a wonderful husband he would be, relatives started calling, friends were sending congrats, mom was crying again.

He paused dramatically and told me the best part was when he was able to say “SIKE! I WAS NEVER IN A RELATIONSHIP IN THE FIRST PLACE!” Then he began laughing hysterically. 

I never finished a drink so fast in my life. 

Obviously after that date, I promptly decided to never speak to him again because I'm about 90% sure this guy is actually a certified sociopath. 

emma's reaction: So... he's a complete, raging psychopath? Cool cool. OMG. What in the literal fuck did I just read? HE LIED FOR 6 MONTHS ABOUT A RELATIONSHIP AND MADE HIS MOM CRY AND THEN TOOK IT TO THE NEXT LEVEL ON ACTUAL APRIL FOOL'S? MY GOD. Sociopathy is a helluva of a drug. OH, and the fact that drinking "NEVER INTERESTED HIM"? I hate to say it, but methinks this dude has definitely murdered someone. Or an animal. Something. I can't. Also, some ideas for sober dates if you find yourself on one again:

So, what did we learn here today?

1: One strike, YER OUT.

2: Even home wreckers can be impressed.

3: If he reaches for flavored vodka, bail ASAP.

4: Non-drinkers get drunk via psychotic episodes.

See you next time for more Datemares!


Emma GoldenComment