Men's Dating Horror Stories, Vol. 1

I'm a gal who has dated many a man. Therefore, I have many a story to tell. But this year is an experimental one on emma's thing. So a few weeks ago, in an effort to give the other side a voice and a perspective, I asked any and every man who was willing to submit their dating horror stories to do so straight to my inbox. Because, although women undeniably have it so much worse when it comes to dating, men aren't without their own so-bad-it's-funny dating catastrophes and I think it's high-time they have a chance to share their stories. So here's volume one of Men's Dating Horror Stories. Enjoy.


Shorty, Swing My Way

"I took a girl out to dinner and we ended up at one of her friend's parties. I realized pretty quickly this was no regular party — it was a swinger's party. I sort of had fun but, like, it was a swinger's party so I didn't stick around for long. I liked the girl enough to go out with her again, hoping the swingers thing was a fluke, but she took me right back to the swinger's party on date two."

emma's reaction: A) Where did you meet this girl? B) What do you mean you "sort of had fun?" C) Everyone deserves a second chance, so I applaud you for giving her the benefit of the doubt. I imagine you leaving the party the second time without her even noticing while she's in the throes of a 3-way makeout with her older neighbors and their dog (IDK — I have a vivid imagination).


SHOWERED IN WTF

"It was a tinder date. I asked her where she wanted to go and, to my surprise, she said she just wanted to come over. I thought it was kinda weird for a first date, but I said OK. So, she came over and we played video games in my room. After a little while, I left to use the bathroom and came back to find her tucked into my bed, fast asleep. I was completely weirded out and didn’t know what to do, so I just went downstairs and watched TV.  Literally 5 hours later, she came downstairs and asked to use my shower. I let her because, at that point, I was so weirded out and kinda nervous she was going to rob me or something. I just wanted her gone without making her angry. So she took a shower, left, and we never spoke again."

emma's reaction: K so... we're all in agreement that you absolutely, 100%, without a doubt let a homeless gal who somehow had access to a cell phone and a dating app into your home, right? Ok. Just making sure. Because that's what happened. I hope she at least picked up her hair from the shower drain and made your bed. Also, are you sure this wasn't via Air BnB? Maybe she thought you were a super nice, inclusive host whose standard welcome is a round of Halo? I just hope you washed your sheets. That's what I'm most concerned about.


MUST LOVE DOGS (NO, LIKE. REALLY REALLY LOVE THEM)

"I went on dates with a mix of men and women prior to meeting my partner, and one such date remains a permanent fixture in my brain.

I met up with this girl at Café Madrid after meeting online and exchanging the usual texts for a week or so. The small introductory talk was fine. She was accomplished, beautiful, and engaging.  She also made it clear that she cared for her dogs — a big plus.

Dinner goes well. So well, in fact, that I'm invited to her place to 'meet her dogs.' Beautiful woman. Likes dogs. Wants me to come home with her for what I assumed to be a thinly veiled interest in coitus 'n' such. Invitation accepted.

We walk into her nearby condo, greeted by four adorable border collies.  I start playing with them on the floor as she gets comfortable in a chair. Ear scratching, belly rub, etc. Seated in her chair, she abruptly lunges toward me, knocking down a framed picture of her dogs off the coffee table, very upset that I scratched the belly of dog #3 due to its "skin sensitivity."  The dog was fine and loved the belly rub.

As she became engrossed in face kisses from all four dogs, I awkwardly (albeit politely) excused myself to the restroom. I didn't need to pee or poo, but needed a moment to contemplate what in the star spangled fuck just happened.

Leaving the bathroom resolved to course-correct, I re-enter her living room. Attempting to lighten the mood, I say: 'You've got some lucky pups. You love the hell out of those guys.'

Looking offended, she stared at me with an confused expression. She replied 'Love them?' Pausing, tears began to flow down her face as the expression turned from confusion to anger. Screaming, and I mean screaming, she proclaims 'I WOULD DIE FOR THEM!' Tears resume.

I sit down and look at my phone in silence. Regaining her composure and wiping the tears from her eyes, she asks 'So, you wanna go back to my room and watch a movie?'  I reply, 'I think it's best I head out.'

So yeah.  Now I sleep with men."

emma's reaction: I was in actual tears reading this. I'm so sorry she ruined vaginas for you forever, but am very happy it happened and that I asked the general pop. for stories, which ultimately resulted in you gracing myself and whoever reads this with such a wonderful story. I thank you for this gift and hope you're enjoying so much coitus 'n' such with no vaginas ever.


So, what did we learn here today?

1: Swing me once, shame on you. Swing me twice, I'm now very confused and want to go home.

2: Blanket rule: No first dates at anyone's house, ever. This is will ensure random 5-hour naps and shower borrowing don't happen until at least date #2.

3: Belly rubs = mental breaks and sometimes serve as final straws re: sexual orientation.

Stay on the edge of your seats for Volume 2, and stay away from all the above until then. Also, my inbox is always open, so if you read this and feel inspired to send yours in — LET'S HAVE IT.

xox,

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