The One Where I Was The Bad Date – Tinder.

I guess sometimes things don’t work out because I’m the bad date. Bad might even be a bit of a stretch, but bad is also how I would describe this. I don’t think I’m perfect, and I know that I can be a bit of a pain, but this story is definitely a rarity, as this was mostly unprovoked and was just because I was being petty at the time and was fed up with the boy in question. 

Sebastian came into my life around the same time the first and only person I ever truly loved left, and right before someone who had a huge impact on me entered my life. Things had not ended well with the guy I thought I had fallen in love with, and I know that that had some kind of influence on this story, as this guy was pushy and I wanted to be over it all. I never advocate for using someone to get over someone else, and I have truly learnt my lesson because of this situation and know to deal with my own emotional baggage before I get involved with someone else, as I have been both the user and the used and I know how difficult it can be to be in both positions. 

So a little more on Sebastian. Sebastian was a few years older than I was, and was nice(ish) to talk to. He had a dorky job, a few nerdy hobbies and some interests I definitely did not share – which at the time seemed fine. Sometimes when you meet someone with different hobbies and interests to you, it can be more fun. You may learn something or even discover an interest you never knew you had, and as a result, you get to share something special with them, and they get to share something even more special with you. Sebastian didn’t seem to mind the different interests, he thrived on them, taking pride in his dorky interests and sharing as much as he could about as many of them as he could. He could be a little bit condescending, especially about having a wealthy family, having been to a fancy private school and living in what he thought was a nice area, but that definitely wasn’t the worst thing about him. The worst thing was that he got extremely clingy extremely quickly – classic stage five clinger if ever I saw one. As someone who values independence and having their own space, this was a lot to take on board so quickly, especially from someone who I wasn’t overly interested in and who (until a certain point) I hadn’t met. We organized to hang out a couple of times, originally having a coffee at a local café, then going out to dinner and to see a movie (which he talked through, much to my chagrin as I had suggested the movie we saw), and then hanging out at an art gallery in the Melbourne CBD before one final date that I will get to a little later on. He became progressively clingier as the dates went on, and it started getting really uncomfortable. Normally, I’m not one to engage in public displays of affection. If I do, I’m hugging someone hello or goodbye, I might kiss someone in public if I’ve been seeing them for a while, and usually I try and do it when no one else is around. The day we went to the art gallery was when it really ramped up. Sebastian kept trying to hold my hand in the street, and tried to “romantically” (read awkwardly) pull me in for a kiss by saying “come here…” with what I can only assume was his bedroom face, before wrapping his arms around my waist and yanking me closer to him- in the middle of an exhibit. I’m really not about that. The final date was one that I was also not a huge fan of, so I will try and keep this brief and then I’ll explain why I was a bad date.
We were hanging out, had eaten dinner and I think Sebastian thought things were going to go a little bit further than they were. He started kissing me, really trying to make out with me, and get heated. This was something I was also not interested in, but it didn’t stop him from trying. That was when I felt it. I was wearing a dress, he was wearing dress pants and all of a sudden I felt something warm on my leg. No – he hadn’t peed on me, but yes, he had gotten VERY excited and I was suddenly very aware of that. Oy with the poodles already. Sebastian had cum on my leg and was done for the night. He promptly informed me he had only ever had sex once, and it was a few years (exactly to the day) earlier. Wonderful. This for me was way too much information and I excused myself to the bathroom to wipe my leg clean and get ahold of myself. Sebastian was a chronic over sharer, a quality in him I was beginning to strongly dislike. I went back out and he seemed pretty pleased with himself, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me in and kissing my nose repeatedly (ew ew ew ew ew) and telling me how great I was. The date ended abruptly then and I went home to shower and rid of the horrific memory of that night. Each date had had an element worse than the last, from bragging constantly about having been to a private school, to talking through a movie I had desperately wanted to see, to being condescending and competitive about everything (including whose parents love who more – hint, my parents are divorced and I don’t have a great relationship with one of them, so that conversation was quite triggering for me.) He told me about crashing his car a couple of months after he had been given it so his parents bought him a new one (I had worked hard to earn the money to buy myself a second hand car – he had been given 2 brand new ones), he told me about competing with his pregnant sister for who had the better blood pressure, commenting that I wouldn’t understand as I never had any siblings to compete with, before making the real kicker of a comment – “What kind of childhood did you even have?” (which again triggered me as I have a lot of trauma attached to my childhood that I don’t like thinking about on a date).
Sebastian also never seemed to understand the requests I made about his behavior in public, let alone the physical cues that went along with them. No matter how often I pulled away or told him something made me uncomfortable, he still persisted in doing it.  On our second date, he had told his friends we were going out and they had asked for “a picture of the happy couple!” as if we were boyfriend and girlfriend already (on our second date.) which I again mentioned made me uncomfortable after he tried to get a picture with me.

Now, I said I was a bad date at the top of this, but I’ll leave you to judge for yourselves and please let me know what you think when you read the rest of this.
I had tried and failed to set up clear boundaries with Sebastian from the start, telling him I wasn’t comfortable with PDA’s, letting him know I wasn’t an affectionate person when I don’t know someone well and didn’t enjoy holding hands or kissing in public, I told him repeatedly that I have an issue with being touched when I haven’t consented and that it takes a bit of time for me to get to that level with anyone. All of this seemingly fell on deaf ears, as he consistently pushed the boundaries and made me feel increasingly uncomfortable. At this point, any time he tried to hold my hand, I pulled it away; I felt that if I walked ahead of him, he wouldn’t try and kiss me in public, and that if I made a physical point of not getting caught in his immediate vicinity, he would get the hint. Actions would hopefully speak louder than words, and with how clingy he was getting, it was the only way I could see fit to get out of it if my words were going nowhere.
Sebastian also started getting ridiculously jealous about nothing- my male friends (with girlfriends) were threats, my gay friends were threats – any male I interacted with was a threat to him. I wasn’t even his girlfriend, but the clingy started turning to possessive. This, combined with how competitive and condescending he was becoming made me feel more and more suffocated. I had met Sebastian between semesters at Uni and a week after our last date, my semester started again so I became twice as busy as I had been with work and study. I was sitting in a class one day when Sebastian asked me what I was doing – so I told him what class I was in.
Your entire degree is such a wank wtf.” He responded.
Granted, I was in a subject I had chosen as I had deemed it to be an easy pass and needed my elective to be a bit more forgiving than the 3 core units I had to do as well that semester. But does that give him, or anyone for that matter, the right to belittle me and cast judgement on what I had chosen to do? The answer is, and always will be, no.
Wow.” Was the only response I could muster.
No no no not what I meant! Just that that class sounds so different to what I’m used to with Uni.”
This was the last straw for me, and I decided to stop responding. Sebastian had disrespected my boundaries, my wishes and my comfort and now he was disrespecting my life choices. Boy, bye. 

Sebastian kept hanging on, texting me asking if I wanted to hang out on various nights, asking if I wanted to come to family events (um, no.) or to events related to his hobbies – where his family would also be so oh, what a great chance to meet them. It was that very week I met the person I dated for the next year, and then that I decided to be a little bit petty. While studying the night before my first date with this new boy, I accidentally sent Sebastian a snap intended for one of my closest friends who had asked me what I was doing the following day and whether I wanted to get coffee. I had double tapped what I thought was my friend’s snap to reply, and instead had tapped the one below it from Sebastian to reply to him.
Instead of sending a snap to apologize, I decided to add insult to injury. All my initial snap had said was “Sorry, I can’t, I’m going to hang out with X, we’re going to this local cafe.” (Side bar – I haven’t decided what I’ll call that boy yet as I am still tossing up whether or not to write about him in one of these posts – so for now he is X.) And without sending any clarifying snap to let him know I was going on a date with someone else, I left it.
I had also named the local café in my snap, as we are all from the same area and know the place I was talking about – Sebastian, too, because he lived 5 minutes away and had asked me to meet him there one day.  Ha ha haaaa. 

Sebastian responded with his typical “Who is that?????” and all I could do was laugh and say “Sorry, wrong person.”
While on the date, I posted an Instagram story where you could clearly see a man’s hands in the background at the table with me. Sebastian was the first person to view the story, and immediately messaged me to ask how my day was and what I had decided to do. I ignored his message and continued on my date, enjoying what was the start of a mostly fantastic relationship with someone I clicked with really well. As I got home, X and I were already planning our next 2 dates, and Sebastian sent me a message asking if I were still at that café and if I wanted to wait there and get coffee when he finished work. No.
It was a few days later, after I posted a snap of myself with the caption “hiking date ready” to my story that I saw Sebastian typing and then nothing. I later discovered he had blocked me in doing that. Haaaaaa.

On my third date with X (which fell within a week of the first) I got what I can only describe as the most useless message of my life. I had made it clear to Sebastian that I wasn’t interested in pursuing things, even down to outright ignoring him when he wouldn’t accept what I was saying, and had given him no signs or reason to think he was getting a girlfriend out of this situation. As I got into X’s car to head off on another hike, I laughed and read out the following message to him –
Hey * redacted *, I hope you’re well! I don’t think things between us are working anymore, and I’m really sorry but I just don’t think it’s going to go any further. I understand if you’re confused and I’m more than happy to sit down and talk it out if you need any further information, but I just don’t think we’re working and I don’t want to hurt you. Thank you for everything and good luck in the future.” 

Sebastian had broken up with me – after weeks of me telling him he was making me uncomfortable and asking him to stop, while I was in someone else’s car going out on a date, he ended things. We went on a hike near Sebastian’s house (as he and X live only minutes from one another but have never met or had anything to do with one another beyond both knowing me.) and a few times while driving out on another date, X and I would pass Sebastian on the street or at the local shops, and every time it looked like we had punched him in the face. 

When I got home from that date with X, after texting him to accept plans for our 4th date, I decided to text Sebastian back and give him a piece of my mind.
Hey bud.” (always the start of a super bitchy text on my behalf)
Don’t worry your tiny head about it, I’m not in the slightest bit confused. I don’t want to sit down and talk it out, I know why it’s not working. I want to give you some advice for the future. If a girl isn’t comfortable with something you’re doing, don’t do it. And if you get a second date out of her, don’t immediately tell your friends about it, and if you do, don’t then show her the message where they’re asking for a picture of “the happy couple.” That’s probably moving a bit too fast, and combined with the other issue, it may be a bit much for her. All the best.” And with that he was gone. 

Funnily enough, he didn’t text me back, though he is still in the viewing list of every Instagram story I’ve ever posted. He recently found a girlfriend and put it on Facebook (something I’m surprised he didn’t try with me considering how clingy he got.) And while I’m happy for them; I truly, truly hope she’s either the most tolerant person alive or that he’s grown up and taken feedback on board.

Otherwise I hope their breakup is public, and I hope I am able to witness it – I love a good “told ya so” moment.

The One with the X Rated Ending – Hinge.

This story is not for anyone under the age of 16 or who has strong feelings about pre-marital sex. This story will also get a little bit graphic and for that I am sorry – this is just a cautionary tale to men and women alike.

This one starts off like many of these stories – a pretty boy, some good conversation and a plan to hang out. The bottle of red was bought, the time was set, and the outfit was cute. The plans were made hastily and seemed to be pretty standard, and something I enjoy doing from time to time on a date – hang out, drink wine and talk, see where it takes us. Ready for a night of good conversation and good wine, I showered and made myself look and smell like a functional human being (when at the time I had a nasty sinus infection and felt less than functional.) And even went so far as to change my sheets to ensure everything was as appealing as possible. But more on that later. 

Simon showed up in a suit, apparently having been to an event beforehand, which wasn’t what threw me most about him. What threw me most was actually his height. I don’t claim to be anything except petite – I am an incredibly small person, standing at only 5’1. But Simon was not much taller than me, and while he had listed his height at 5’10, he was barely taller than me, coming in closer to 5’6 than anything. I know it’s shallow to be thrown by this, but having expected him to be significantly taller, this was a bit of a surprise to see he had lied on his profile. I moved past this fact, not wanting to appear too shallow, but was then thrown by his voice. His voice came out sounding a little bit like that of a pre-pubescent boy rather than a 26 year old man. Hmmmm.
Again, for the sake of the evening I moved past it and tried to enjoy the conversation… Until he told me he had accidentally put his age in wrong on the app. Oh no. At this point, I knew he lived at home and was still at uni studying (a Bachelor’s degree, so I had thought it was weird at 26 but not completely unheard of.) Combining this with the fact he was still rather short, had shown up in an uber (and not driven himself) and sounded like a younger boy, I started panicking a la Monica Gellar when she discovers her boyfriend is actually a senior in high school, not college. According to Simon, he was only 24 – so not too far off and definitely not as bad as I had thought, but still quite a shock when all of these facts came to light. So, I continued on with the date, enjoying his company more and more as we got to know each other. 

Then things started heating up, and this is where events really take a turn. Disclaimer – this is your last warning, things aren’t pretty after this and I do reference sex and a sex accident. Click away now if that’s not what you came here for! Go read about poems and milkshakes and live in blissful ignorance as I wish I could when it comes to this story, leave thinking that the worst part was the amount of weird inconsistencies in his profile and information.
When we started kissing, Simon immediately shoved his tongue in my mouth and held it in there stiff like a dead fish. Not fun, but not awful, and I tried to keep the kissing as closed mouthed as possible. But then he wanted to take things further, and put his hand down my pants – fine, this is how these things start, I guess we’re not going to waste any time in getting there! I felt a little sting and just assumed it was a nerve or something, not given much time to think about it before he started rubbing his flat hand up and down, side to side down there. Yikes. The weird rubbing became more vigorous until he pulled his hand out and used it to push my head down. Again, fine, I guess this is where things were going anyway, I was just a little disappointed that he had used that hand to push my head down, as I had freshly washed my hair and was not happy that he had done that. After the shortest 2 minutes of my life, he used that same hand to pull my head back up to keep kissing. When we then got to the not pants part, the no-pants-dance if you will; it was as quick and disappointing as I can possibly describe – to the point where we weren’t actually doing anything, he was just rubbing himself against my stomach and panting. Images of Will and Charlotte in The Inbetweeners flashed through my brain, as I lay there wondering why I had done my hair and put makeup on if this is how disappointing it was. After a moment, he seemed to be done and rolled off me, happy with his effort. It was then that I noticed that I had a bit of blood on my leg. 

I caught sight of the blood and subtly checked my half of the bed, holding a tissue to it to stop it from dripping on my brand new, beloved quilt cover. I went to the bathroom and discovered his finger nail had sliced my inner thigh – as close to my noonie as possible, but not in or on it. What the actual fuck. I wiped it clean with some water, and wiped the blood off my leg and shoulder (obviously from where he had touched me in the process.) I asked him to leave, claiming I had an early start the next morning, and went to bed. I woke with the alarm I had set to make sure I was up and ready to go on time – as I had another date with someone else; when I noticed it. On my brand new quilt cover. My clean, white, patterned quilt cover that I had saved up for and splurged on when it went on sale – a blood stain in the shape of a finger. This little fuck-knuckle had realized I was bleeding, and rather than ask me if I was ok or check to see where the blood was coming from, he had wiped his fingers on my brand new quilt cover. And how do I know it was his and not mine? Because he was the one laying on the other side of the bed that I don’t sleep on or use – right next to the full, open box of tissues.

The One With The Catfishing Accusation. – Hinge

When choosing dating app photos, I generally try and choose the same things. A selfie or two – usually with nice subtle makeup, good lighting or a filter; a photo with my dog, a photo with a group of friends from some kind of formal event, a photo of me solo at another formal event. I paint a picture of my life, showing that I scrub up alright sometimes and that I can be social (when really I’m incredibly anxious about everything, all the time…) but I usually try and also pick pictures that paint a cohesive picture of what I look like. So when I met Riley on Hinge, I was incredibly surprised to find out that what I had envisioned, to him at least, was not only deceiving but was an incredible let down. This was also one of my first experiences on Hinge, and it was something that nearly convinced me to delete my account.

Riley seemed as normal as anyone else. Our chats were nice and flowy, he seemed pretty flirty (which at the time I enjoyed), he was interested in true crime and could keep up with my constant stream of ridiculous thoughts, theories and rants about cases I’d been listening to or had read about. He listened to the podcasts I listened to, had his own theories and thoughts on cases I was immensely interested in and seemed to enjoy the back and fourth we had going. This easy flowing, fun conversation is rare in the guys I meet on apps. Usually they’re full of ideas I’ve already heard of. “Have you heard of a podcast called Serial?” No shit, Sherlock, I listened to it in 2014 when it was released. “Have you ever heard of Jonbenet Ramsey?” Hasn’t everyone? “I think you’d really like Dirty John.” Baby, that’s why I’m anxious on dating apps, who are you fooling?
This kind of easy conversation continued for a couple of weeks before we decided to try and take things offline and into the real world. We planned to meet at a café midway between where we lived, and agreed to wear something in particular to show that it was us (kind of half as a joke, I thought…)

So I showed up to the café ready to keep talking to to this true crime loving beauty (because he was quite breathtaking to look at) wearing a shirt that said “The Husband Did It.” (to show it was me.) Paired with a pair of denim cut-off shorts and my white converses, I felt cute and ready to talk to this boy; in my element and confident as anything. I sat and waited, not wanting to order a coffee until he arrived, though also not oblivious to the fact he was late, and becoming later by the second. I must have checked my texts, Facebook and Tinder a hundred times before calling it quits and leaving the café. I ordered myself a coffee to go and sulked in the car listening to a podcast, waiting a moment to see if he showed up. When he still hadn’t shown up, I checked the message where he had set a date, time and place and made sure that I was, in fact, at the right place at the right time. Though it’s not something I’ve done before, I’m always anxious that I’ll mess up and stand someone up or go a day too early (how fun is anxiety.) But alas, I had all of the details correct, I was at the agreed upon place, I was at a table (and then in my car) facing the door to the cafe. How could I have possibly missed him? I even texted him to confirm what I already knew, watching to see if anyone outside grabbed their phone – but still, no response. I drove home with my phone at full volume in case he tried to call and ask where I was – but still, no word. I messaged my friends, informing them of my flop of a date, and decided that it was best to just pretend it hadn’t happened.

A day later, I received a message from him that – more than anything, hurt and confused me.
Hey * redacted! *I thought I should explain my absence yesterday but don’t really think I need to. I got to the café and saw you and you looked nothing like your photos, so I thought I’d leave. I don’t know what you did to your photos but it’s deceptive and rude to fool people like that, sucking them in and letting them down so much. Maybe reconsider your photos for next time? I’m gonna block your number now, I’m still a little embarrassed that I fell for all this. Have a nice life, catfish.”

I obviously never heard from Riley again, and spent a great deal of time looking in the mirror feeling like Ross Gellar when Joey sets him up on a date and then cancels it to make Ross want to go back to Rachel. I had never considered that someone could actually walk in and then walk straight out again upon seeing you until that day – and to this day, I still worry sometimes that someone will walk in, see me and walk back out whenever I go on a date.

The One Who Messaged Back Just a Little Too Late – Tinder.

So we’re back to early 2016 with a bit of a short story, and one of the first matches I ever had on Tinder, a fact that does play into this story later. This story with this boy, (lets call him Dean) takes place over a quite few months, with a lengthy tinder flirtation and many failed attempts at a first date. We had conflicting schedules that often meant we were not able to meet up and hang out, though we spoke fairly consistently from April, 2016 until late October, 2016. We started becoming fairly familiar with each other, despite never having met, and our conversations were an almost daily occurrence. I would not necessarily say you While I was obviously seeing other people during this time, things with Dean never seemed to pan out time wise and kind of faded into the background. I had him on Snapchat and occasionally would receive a snap or chat but by the end of November, it fizzled out completely. I don’t even know if we still had each other on Snap, as he rarely viewed my stories, sent me anything directly or posted stories. Things went completely radio silent, and on the rare occasion he would view my stories, it would be a stupid video of myself and friends doing something a little bit weird. Rice exploding in a microwave, stupid dancing in the library at uni, nothing important that would indicate that I was dating someone.

We’re doing a bit of a time jump here to complete the story, forward to September 2018. I had been steadily dating a guy since July, and had forgotten that I had Tinder on my phone, I hadn’t responded to anyone I had been chatting with in months so it wasn’t exactly a buzzing hive of activity. But then, one night while at work, I felt my phone ping. Dean sent you a message.

Hmm. I thought, I don’t remember swiping on anyone new in a long time? Having totally forgotten, by this point, how often we had spoken back in the day. I opened it up to find what I still think to be the funniest message I’ve ever received.
Hey * redacted first name * 🙂 x
How have you been recently??”

Stop it. No really, stop it.

How does one even respond to that? I literally could not even begin to imagine what this guy was imagining would happen, he’d message me 2 years after we had stopped speaking entirely and I’d fall madly in love with him immediately? As if 2 years going past hadn’t changed anything for me at all. If it weren’t for the total fluke of me having Tinder on my phone, even though I was dating someone, I wouldn’t have even seen the message. (to see how dating that boy ended, see the start of The One Who “Wasn’t Ready” for further details.)
I responded the next night with one of my work colleagues, not quite sure how to handle such an odd and uncomfortable situation. He offered to message back something super suggestive and try and freak him out, I suggested we find him on Facebook and he message Dean pretending to be my boyfriend (which was extra funny, as this colleague is gay.) Eventually, the resulting message was –
Recently like… In the last 2 years recently? Yeah look, bit of a rollercoaster as I guess you’d expect for 2 years worth of stuff. Gotta ask though – cause honestly, this is a little insane. Why now? After 2 years? 2 years, mate.”


He let me know he had been going through some old messages and wondered why we had stopped talking (it was because he stopped responding back then) so he thought he would message me to see how I was, remembering that we had had a good time chatting and had been trying to plan a date – 2 years ago. That was also the last message I sent on Tinder – me asking if he wanted to hang out, him not responding for 2 years. He did apologize for how awkward and random it was, at which point I took it upon myself to message him back and tell him that I didn’t know where to start in telling him about the last 2 years, but that as flattered as I was at the thought of him messaging me after all this time, I was in fact seeing someone. I said a quick sorry to him and wished him luck, ending the message with one of my favourite sassy quips of all time –
And good luck with everything, yeah? I hope the girl you waited 3 years to message back is keen.”
Sorry Dean…

The One With the Many Accidental Encounters.

So sometimes I have encounters with the opposite sex that aren’t on apps and that occur in real life. I am a very awkward person and from all of these scenarios I have walked away feeling guilty and uncomfortable for one reason or another. I also constantly feel like Chandler Bing, waiting to find his Monica – someone to put up with my awkward, goofy, well intentioned self. I’m very awkward and full of doubt about myself and others when it comes to dating, so seeing someone with a lot of confidence come to me in public makes me feel like even more of an anxious, nervous wreck.
These are some of my finest moments from my real life encounters with the male species.

The first takes place in 2018. I had finished a shift at my job, it was nearly midnight and I had a group of friends at a bar not far from where I had just finished work. I got a call as I was leaving asking if I felt like coming out for a bit, and to my own surprise I said yes. When I got there, the bouncer at the door had to stop everyone, check their ID and take their photo to make sure you weren’t getting back in if you left the premises. When it was my turn, I handed over my license and turned towards the camera, only to hear the bouncer say “with a smile like yours, you may not pay for a drink all night.” Chuffed, and very embarrassed, I went to laugh and ended up rolling my eyes in the photo so I was almost unrecognisable. I got inside, found my group and started talking and dancing, trying to enjoy the night even though I was mentally and physically exhausted. I went to the bar to get a drink when suddenly I felt a presence next to me. I turn to see a half drunk, very attractive guy leaning against the bar, almost swaying towards me.
Wow. You have a great face.”

 He slurred at me. I didn’t think too hard on it but to smile and say thank you. As I turned back to the bartender, he again tried to speak to me.
Do you have a pen?”
I, being a hospitality employee, always have and always have had a pen on me at all times as a result of my training. I usually would finish a shift with multiple stuffed in my pockets and bag, ready to go again the next night. I handed him my pen and turned back to the bartender again, trying to get my order out when I felt a tickle in my nose. (Sidebar – It was spring in Melbourne and Hayfever warnings were at an all time high.) I put in my standard drink order, and felt something nudge my elbow – this boy was giving me back my pen. As I went to take it back, I felt the sneeze of the century come on… Just as he handed me a napkin. I sneezed into the napkin, wiped my face and went to find a bin when I realized what I had done. This poor boy was trying to give me his number and I had just sneezed into the napkin he did it on.  He was someone I would have gladly accepted a number from in any normal circumstances, maybe just not the ones where my nose had exploded all over his digits. Oh my god. I wanted the ground to swallow me whole right there and then, and by the look on his face, he did too. I tried to apologize but was hit with 3 more of the most violent sneezes I’ve ever done (and I’m normally not a violent sneezer!) I watched him slink back to his group, took my drink and did the same thing. I sometimes wonder if that poor boy ever remembered me doing that, or if he were so drunk he just remembers the small girl with the manly sneeze… And sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night panicking about it because I never would’ve done that had I known what he was doing. Ugh.

Another accidental encounter happened in March 2019. The boy I was dating had been away for a while for work, and I was committed to being there for him when he got back, I didn’t want anything from anyone else, I just wanted him. While he was not my boyfriend, I did feel a commitment to him, as we had been together for a while and I really liked him as a person. So when one day on the train I was approached, not once, but twice I took it as my mission that I needed to be as unappealing as possible.
The first boy to try his luck saw that I was reading a book and decided that was a great way to get my attention. I was sitting there with my headphones in, reading my book when he sat himself down opposite me and tried to catch my eye. One would think that that would be the universal signal that I did not want to be bothered, but this boy pushed ahead.
That is a great book. What are you thinking of it so far?”
I looked up at him and told a small lie.
Yeah it’s great, my boyfriend recommended it to me and said I would love it. I doubted him at first but he knows me too well, I love it!” Game, set and match. The boy got up and got off the train at the next station. Feeling like I was off the hook, I went back to my book, only to hear another voice appear in front of me.
That was so funny what happened with that guy! Haha hi I’m Stewart.”
Now, what I did next is something I will never forget because it was the most panicked of the panic responses I’ve ever had. I looked up from my book, looked this boy straight in the eyes and meowed. Twice.

I was once out grocery shopping at my local shopping centre when I was approached by a guy. I had my headphones in (I like to put on a podcast whenever I’m doing pretty much anything.) And was walking around the bakery department of Coles when he appeared. I was wearing active wear and (at the time) had very clear skin and eyelash extensions, so I looked a lot more alive and nice than I do on other days you may catch me outside my house. He had a great voice, a bit like Osher Günsberg, something I found wildly attractive (If you don’t know the Australian radio and TV legend that is Andrew G, please google him ASAP and listen to his podcast Better Than Yesterday with Osher Günsberg. It will change your life. I promise you that 🙂 ) and was pretty nice to look at. It was one of those weird movie scene style moments where we both reached for something at the same time – a box of cinnamon donuts. I smiled at him and tried to grab my doughnuts in peace, but we both went to reach for another box, to give the other person that box, and instead again went for the same one. I smiled and said he could take that one and I’d take that one, and hurried off to grab the rest of my items. We then passed each other in the pasta row, as I grabbed a box of penne, and then finally met again in the flour aisle as I went to buy pizza flour. He smiled at me, and tried to start a conversation, possibly not recognizing that I had my headphones in for a reason. As he said his hello, the podcast I was listening to became extremely funny. (If you’re looking for a podcast to listen to when you’re going about your life, a few good recommendations are Jensen and Holes – Murder Squad, Punch Up the Jam, My Favourite Murder, Complete Drivel with Christian Hull, Gilmore Guys, Jenna and Julien and Mum Says My Memoir is a Lie.)
Anyway, my podcast became funny as Christian Hull told a story I wasn’t expecting to hear, and I burst out laughing as I turned to say hello to him. He didn’t seem to understand what was so funny about the way he said hello, and I didn’t want to tell him the story I was listening to, as it was quite inappropriate for a supermarket.
If you ever see this, I certainly did find you attractive, and I am so sorry!

The last story actually takes place on a date I have already written about on this blog (See The One Who “Wasn’t Ready.” To connect stories.) I was sitting at Arbory in the Melbourne CBD waiting for Logan to come back from the bathroom when a guy approached me. I was wearing a footy jersey for Logan’s team as we had been to a game earlier in the night to support his team, and then gone out for drinks to commiserate the epic loss we had witnessed. I was sitting there sipping my beer, looking over the river and the city when he appeared by the table.
“Soooo is that your boyfriend?” he smirked at me, nodding his head towards the toilets, pulling a seat out ready to sit with me with his drink. Now, I understand having balls and wanting to talk to someone attractive in public, but I also don’t understand how you could be so forward with someone who was clearly there with someone else. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. I’m a very straight shooting, no tolerance for bullshit kind of person, and considering I was really starting to like Logan at the time, I didn’t want him sitting there flirting with me when I thought I had a good thing going with Logan. I decided to play with this boy’s ego.
No, that’s my husband.” I said, keeping my left hand planted firmly under my leg under the table. I smiled at him and waited for it to dawn on him. As the wheels started to turn in his head, I decided to add insult to injury.
It’s our first night out since the baby.” At that he looked at my stomach (which was heavily concealed by layers of baggy clothing) and then Kath and Kel style speed walked away from me.
Don’t let the door hit ya on the way out, bud.

The One With the High School “Relationships.”

So, as some of you may have seen, I am very excited to announce that I have branched out beyond the world of bad dates, and am now also writing for a good friend of mine – Callum. There is an official announcement with more information and a link to his blog further down in my blog feed, but in keeping with the theme of this blog and as a big warm welcome to him, this is the story two of Callum’s bad date experiences – both of which I was directly involved in. So, let’s get started shall we?

Callum and I have known each other since year 7, and over the years have bonded over our affinity for Gilmore Girls, our mutual love of books (namely Stephen King), the experiences we’ve shared through our schooling life and our passion for writing. Back in 2010 when we first met, we were placed in the same class and quickly fell into the same friendship group when one of his friends decided he had a crush on one of my friends. Thus, the group was formed. The group contained myself and my “boyfriend” (let’s call him Grant), Callum and his “girlfriend” (re-named Madeline for this story), our friend who wasn’t “dating” anyone at the time (Thomas), and the couple who started it all – Paris and Doyle (Hey Gilmore Girls fans 😉 I see you.)

Callum and Madeline started dating just after Paris and Doyle did, and so our group became tighter and seemingly unbreakable as we did everything together. How long did this last, I hear you asking? Well. There’s a reason I put quotation marks around the words dating and boyfriend/girlfriend before, because none of us actually went on dates, and it lasted maybe a week for them each time they dated (Grant and I lasted a little longer and seemed to be the constant in this first story.) Callum and Madeline had a good run, but Madeline soon asked me for help as she could not figure out how to break up with Callum. Having seen me do this exact thing for my, soon to be, two best friends (who will remain anonymous), she asked if I would give it a crack for her. Big yikes.
So I sat a slightly confused Callum down and told him she just couldn’t see it going any further, but I did it with my usual flare.
When a man and a woman love each other very very much…” I began, telling Callum that this was not one of those stories, and that Madeline was actually ending it and just too nervous to say so. Ouch. (Sorry Callum!!) Callum was very understanding, took a moment and was soon ok, and with that I thought it was over. But then, within a few days, Paris asked me to do the same for her and Doyle. 12 years old and already with 2 successful breakups under my belt, I thought I was the perfect person to do this as I was close enough to both sides to justify a private chat with Doyle, and knowledgable enough on the art of breaking hearts I sat him down and explained that it just wasn’t working with Paris and that I was sorry but this was it for them. Doyle took this a lot harder, though soon recovered (no use moping around after someone you were with for little over a week, if you ask me.) And with that, I well and truly thought this was the end of my breaking up days, hoping that the only ones I would be involved in from then on would be my own. This is the part of the story though where the narrator would normally say something like This was not the end of those days for her, but rather the beginning of a long line of broken hearts.

Year 7 camp came around and everyone was as excited as could be. We loaded into the bus listening to our iPod shuffles and playing MASH (AKA – PRAM where you predict what your future will hold.) It was on this bus journey that both Madeline and Paris confided in me that they wanted to get back with Callum and Doyle respectively and that they hadn’t enjoyed the few days between me breaking them up and now. Ugh, teenagers, am I right? We arrived at our lunch stop and they all got back together as I sat and listened to love songs and pictured Grant as Zac Efron. BUT THEN on that final day of that very same school camp Madeline and Paris, mere days after getting back together it had become too much and they were looking to employ my breakup guru services once again. With a heavy heart, and while waiting in line for the giant swing, I cornered Doyle first and got the breakup over and done with as quickly as I could before moving on to Callum. My conversation with Callum, who I’ve always been quite real with, went as follows.

Me – “So… Do you remember last time we had a chat like this?”
Callum – “Yeah?”
Me – “Yeah…” **nods head, gives sad smile**
Callum – “Oh… Ok…”
End scene.

We move on to the next relationship he was in, with a girl we still refer to as “Everybody’s Favourite Ex-Girlfriend” and the on-again-off-again plague of 2011. To abbreviate and try and cut down on how often I have to type that phrase, I’ll refer to her as EFEG.
EFEG and I were “friends” in that way you’re friends with people you’re stuck in a room with 8 hours a day, 5 days a week – surface level, superficial and short lived. Now, for a while I had known EFEG and Callum had a crush on each other, so when it eventuated that they became “boyfriend and girlfriend”, it wasn’t a huge surprise. Their obvious differences would boil over in only a matter of time, and once again I would take Callum’s side, only this time I would help HIM deliver the final blow to their relationship. While I liked EFEG (to an extent) I was more than happy to offer my services to a now emotionally exhausted Callum (their relationship was turbulent after all.) Her behaviour had even started wearing thin on me, and I wasn’t the one “dating” her.
In what must have been my favourite breakup ever, Callum handed me a letter and asked me to deliver to EFEG on his behalf – which I did with a big smile and a spring in my step. And I stood there with Madeline (who was still my friend at the time) and pretended not to watch as her heart was ripped out. Smothering a giggle and pretending to offer sympathy when she nearly kicked over a shelf of graphic novels in our school library, their relationship was over and the world felt right again.
They eventually got back together, much to my chagrin, and broke up again with a little help from the heartbreak whizz. This cycle continued a few times until one day they called it quits for good, and I slept easy that night knowing I could cross off 2 of my best clients from the growing list of people asking me to help them end relationships they didn’t know how to end.

Not one to usually take sides, I did make a point during their breakups that I was going to remain friends with Callum regardless of her feelings towards him and, probably much to the annoyance of EFEG, we are still friends 9 and a half years later. Neither of us will ever know what she thinks of us and this situation, as we have both removed ourselves completely from her life. I did it shortly after their last breakup, seeing no reason to be nice to someone who holds a grudge against you for being friends with someone after a teenage breakup, and Callum did it after she moved away from our school a year or so later. I guess that goes to show, some friendships from high school aren’t made to last – but some are. And hell, we’re even writing for a blog together now.

Update: New Team Member!

Attention Bad Date friends! I am branching out! For all things book and movie related, head on over to The Book and Movie where I will be doing the odd review or comparison between (you guessed it) a book and a film. My longtime friend is the genius behind this blog, and it is with great excitement that after years of talking about this, we are finally writing together!

The Book and Movie

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am happy to announce that as of today, the Book and Movie family is officially one member bigger. Please welcome long time friend, fellow book nerd and creator of baddatediary.com, Gilmore.

No, Gilmore isn’t her real name (you’ll soon figure out why that’s the name we chose to use), but for her own reasons, she has asked to stay anonymous.

Having spent a good portion of our highschool lives discussing books or writing in some capacity, I’m super excited to finally working with Gilmore directly.

After I can make a few adjustments, fresh Gilmore content will be up for your reading pleasure. Until then, please feel free to make Gilmore welcome and stop by baddatediary.com if you’re in need of something to cheer you up (or something to face-palm about, if you so desire).

Are you on Twitter? Follow us @bookmovieblog for notifications when…

View original post 28 more words

The One Who Couldn’t Kiss – Tinder.

So, I know what you’re thinking. Everyone is used to something – whether that be the way they kiss, the way they hug, the way they’re used to doing their washing, the way they’re used to walking around the house in their underwear… We’re all used to things being a certain way. And I know, maybe this one is just me being fussy, but also – maybe it’s not. And maybe, just maybe, this is one of the worst one off dates and date experiences I’ve ever had.

So. The scene. I was 19 and on Tinder, the boy (let’s call him Jess after another great Gilmore Girls boyfriend.) was nice, if not a little dull, and possibly a little naïve for my taste.  He was older and tried to play off that because he was older and had gone to a private school, he was obviously smarter than I am, even after living an incredibly sheltered, privileged life. (Which; by the way, if that’s you and you think you’re more mature than me because you went to a private all boys school – click away now. Go on!)
We organized to hang out, and in the back of my mind any time I’ve organized a date with someone who seemed to be a little bit weird or different, I have thought of this blog. I have been dreaming of this blog for years, before I even started dating or writing down my bad dates, before I knew what I wanted to do, I knew I wanted to write and share my thoughts and feelings with the world.
When I turned 18 and went on my, now infamous, first bad date (See – The One with the Freakshakes.) this blog was born in my mind, and I started collecting more stories to share. And this date was one of those ones that, from the second I saw him, I knew he would be one of these stories. So, onto the date.

We decided to get coffee and hang out, and from the second I saw him, I felt that “I’m so much wiser than you” attitude reigning down on me. Great. I ordered my coffee (my usual summer order – an iced almond milk latte) and he commented on the extra cost of the almond milk – not the first guy to have an issue with this, and definitely not the last. I told him outright I was happy to pay for my own coffee, never under the impression that a guy should have to pay for everything on a date, and definitely not lost on the fact that I too was earning money, so I was able to pay for myself. This almost seemed to sadden him, he sat there quietly and simply muttered “Oh, well… I was going to but FINE…” Ok, not a big deal, I’ll pay for my own coffee, and at this stage I didn’t think I would be staying long and mentally started preparing an exit strategy. The conversation was stilted, and everything I said, he had a wise comment to add, thinking he (at 24) needed to give me (at 19) advice on how to conduct my life. Most of the time, his advice was not only uncalled for, but was just him stating the obvious. I would talk about work I was doing for class at Uni, and he would comment “Oh well you HAVE to get an education, can’t rely on the public school system to teach you everything.” Or I would tell an anecdote about something that had happened at work, and he would remark how “simple” hospitality sounded. (Shout out to my hard working hospo buds. Y’all the real MVP’s.)
By the time I downed my coffee, I was seriously considering climbing out the bathroom a la Rachel Greene, or trying to access the kitchen to use the back door and get out. This guy had a smart arse comment to add to everything I said. I told him I needed to use the bathroom, and he said he did too, so he followed me. When I came out, after not actually using the toilet, there he was waiting for me. I went to the counter to pay for my coffee and he commented to the server how strong willed I was for wanting to pay for myself. After I had paid, I stepped back and, for reasons only known to him, he placed a hand on my butt and pat me like a dog. I stepped further back, away from his hand, and heard him remark “she should too, considering she decided to order something more extravagant…” while the server looked blankly between us, obviously recognising that this was a bad first date. I walked out to go to my car, trying to get ahead of him, but low and behold, my short legs didn’t get me far ahead and he followed me again. Not wanting him to see which car I was walking to, I stopped short just across the road from the car park, and turned to say goodbye. As I motioned that I was crossing the road, he wrapped his arms around me and said “You’ll have to teach me how to do this…” before he shoved his tongue in my mouth and (I kid you not) flapped it up and down, tapping the roof of my mouth and then my tongue, and then the roof of my mouth, and then my tongue. I tried to pull away but that only lead him to pull me in closer, sliding a hand down my back and up the back of my dress to (once again) uncomfortably pat my butt.
Eventually, I pulled away and mumbled something about needing to go and ran to my car. Once inside my car; and after watching him get in his car and drive away, I started laughing. And that laughing turned into hysteria, with tears streaming down my face at how awkward and awful the whole situation was. Not so much a sad cry, more just one purely out of shock at how sexually aggressive he became after spending the date belittling me and my entire existence. And he expected me to teach him how to kiss?
I got home and already had 3 texts from him telling me how great it was and how he wanted to do it again, to which I simply said I was busy all the days he was free and that it likely wouldn’t work out. Did that stop him from messaging me a year later and trying to reconnect? No. And when I said I was busy and didn’t think it would work out, did he then send me a “break up” message about how he had had a really good time, but just couldn’t see it going any further? Yes. He was just one of those guys who had to have the final word on everything and had to make his (always horrific) opinions the loudest voice in the room.

To date, I have a Bachelors Degree, a job I love and lots of experience in 2 industries I have loved. If he were ever to see me again, I wholeheartedly believe he would try and claim some of the glory for my own success because of all the unwarranted advice he gave me back in the day. He just had to be one of those people who had to have the final say.
To quote Emily Gilmore, “Tacky, horrid people.”

The One with 2 Guys and a Girl. – Tinder & Happn

Sometimes this kind of thing happens. There are plenty of people in the same area on dating apps, so there’s bound to be an overlap at some point. I know I have matched with guys who have matched with my friends, and vice versa. I’ve seen my family friends on there, I’ve seen people I work with, I’ve even seen my friends’ boyfriends’ and ex boyfriends’ (yikes.) But this story takes place across a couple of months during 2017, I was on 2 apps at the time and not really enjoying either of them. Tinder was proving to be a bit boring, and Happn wasn’t big enough at the time to find anyone I had thought I’d find (cute strangers on the train, guys I walked past in the city, etc.) Instead I met Jason from The One Where I Had to be the Bitch, and decided Happn wasn’t for me.

I matched with Tim, and while we did get on and have some decent conversation, we never planned to meet. Our brief chat on Tinder and a few days of sending random, stupid snaps back and fourth on Snapchat and that was it. He seemed to have an underlying mental health concern as sometimes, late at night there would be the odd story that sounded like a cry for help, but then he would be right back to his normal self. Tim and I faded away, as my own mental health concerns felt a little triggered by him and his strange up and down moods, so I left some distance between us to try and deal with my own concerns (as I hoped he would, too, as it is hard seeing someone struggle so much.) Not one to delete someone off social media unless they intentionally hurt me, though, I did keep Tim on Snapchat.

Then about a week after we stopped talking, I matched with Lucas on Happn. Lucas was one of 3 boys I matched with on Happn before I deleted the app, and was someone with whom I had a similar experience to Tim. Lucas was perfectly lovely, had a good job, had a good head on his shoulders, it just didn’t seem to work out because of the timing of the next series of events anda difference in our personalities. There did seem to be something a bit weird about Lucas, he was too nice, a little too charming and he said “his” instead of “he’s” and “your” instead of “you’re” – it all just became a bit much after trying (and failing) to coordinate plans with him. Not to throw any shade at someone I’ve never actually met but his personality begged a few questions… Cue Carl from The 40-year-old virgin now. So, needless to say, Lucas and I kind of faded into the background, but I kept him around on Snapchat just in case he turned out to be a serial killer (I wanted to be questioned on a true crime podcast about my limited knowledge of the boy.)

Pause.
For some context, my radius on Tinder is 20kms, and with Happn you only need to walk past someone else with the app to see them, so the radius doesn’t really exist. Tim lived about 3 suburbs away from me, while Lucas was only a few streets away from me at the time. About a week apart, both boys posted a story with a girls’ hands in the background (a classic table shot of them out to dinner and drinks respectively, with a girls’ hands on a glass or holding a knife and fork.) It’s not uncommon that guys post about dates and that’s when I delete them, not because I’m upset but just because that’s when I realize they serve me no purpose, they spark no joy.


Back to the story. This is where things started getting weird. I noticed in Tim’s snap (which was posted first) that the girl was wearing a ring I really liked, and in turn I made a mental note to try and find that ring. The following Saturday night I saw Lucas’ snap about being out with a girl, but noticed a weird detail – there was that same ring. Different nail colour, a tan, different bracelets, same ring. Odd but also another reminder that I really wanted that dang ring. (Sidebar – I did end up buying the ring; I found it and now wear it every day, but every time I see it I think of this story.)
So, more time passes and both boys keep posting stories with a girl in them. A girl (facing away from the camera) standing on a pier looking out to sea, a video taken from a bed of a cat bouncing around with a girl giggling in the background, more photos of hands holding things at a table, and then the worst (and best) thing to possibly happen. After about 2 months of watching them post these things, then came the selfies… With the same girl – enter Wendy. Wendy was dating these 2 boys simultaneously – which I wouldn’t have seen as a bad thing if it weren’t for the fact that it looked like things were starting to heat up between her and both guys. I briefly stalked them both on Facebook, finding that she was in both their profile pictures, and that neither of them were in hers. Ok, maybe they were both aware that she was dating both of them, I know I’ve dated two boys at once, maybe there was no issue! But then started coming the more disgusting snaps. Tim was obviously starting to fall in love with this girl, and Lucas was starting to make grand gestures. I kept both boys on Snapchat purely for the comedy – it was almost like Rear Window but a little less voyeuristic. There was something lightly concerning about the stories that started appearing. Tim would post stories about how much he loved Wendy and how she had saved him and made him a better person; how she changed his life and he loved her so much (Oh Tim, no…) The posts kept coming about how she meant the world to him and how she had changed everything for him. They started taking a turn, though, when he started posting about how glad he was that he had met her and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her and no one else…  Yikes…

Then were Lucas’ posts. Lucas took Wendy on mini-breaks to the Peninsula Hot Springs, to the beach, to a music festival. They went on a road trip, they were going to nice restaurants and fancy looking bars. He bought her big bouquets of flowers and would spend time with her friends and family (don’t you love people who put their entire lives on Snapchat?) but in his own special way, Lucas showed a deep affection for Wendy. While he wasn’t as vocal about how much Wendy meant to him, seeing him do all these extravagant and kind things really showed that he cared, and the lack of other females and openness about sharing his dates with Wendy seemed to show he had nothing to hide.
These posts would all be about a week or more apart, as if she saw Tim every second week of the month and Lucas every other week, alternating like clockwork she would appear in my Story feed with each of the boys. Curiosity eventually got the better of me, so one day I harmlessly sent a snap to Tim, after seeing a particularly lovely story about his night in at home with Wendy watching TV. I sent him a DM saying that I know it was probably weird, but that it was so nice to see him so happy (because, in all honesty, it was. It was nice to see him happy, but difficult being in the position I was in, because I knew she wasn’t as serious about him as he clearly was about her.)
Tim responded and thanked me, telling me how lucky he was to have met her, and as only a low end meddler, I simply told him to be careful of himself. People on the internet can be a little shady (and while I was also a person from the internet, I wanted him to be careful.) Tim almost laughed it off, told me he hoped I, too, was doing well, and then disappeared. The snaps from both boys briefly stopped including Wendy, and while it did initially seem a little bit suspicious, life gets busy and it looked like both boys were consumed by hobbies and the other facets of their lives that they had since forgotten as their relationships with Wendy took over.

A month after I had last messaged Tim, I received another message from him, following up on this situation. Tim was messaging me to thank me for telling him to be careful. It turns out, the following day at breakfast with Wendy, he had asked her to be his girlfriend officially. He wanted to make things real, put it on Facebook, meet her friends and family, the whole shebang. Wendy had frozen up a bit and said she needed to take care of some things before she could give him an answer. Upon pressing a little more, Wendy had gotten up to go to the bathroom and Tim had seen a message flash on her screen. He wasn’t proud of it, but curiosity got the better of him, so he took a look. It was a message from someone whose name was apparently a series of emojis (a rose, a sparkly love heart, a kiss face, the heart eyes, you get the gist.) And the opening line told him everything he needed to know. Lucas had apparently texted her saying “Hey baby, My mum said yes to dinner with your family, we’ll be there. Tuesday, right? Speak soon xx”
Tim was apparently shattered, but did the natural thing and walked out as she came back, leaving her stuck with the bill. After a few hours of desperate calls and texts, Wendy gave up. She said she had been set on Lucas for a while and couldn’t work out how to end things with Tim. I apologised to Tim telling him that I hoped he was ok and could work through it all, and with that I decided not to tell him I’d known, instead leaving him to heal in peace. I blocked him not long after that when his mental state lead him to send some questionable things to me, but I do still hope he found happiness whatever that may be.

The One Where I Had to be The Bitch. – Happn

Sometimes the situation just calls for it. This is another story of how lying bites you in the arse, especially if you’re not aware of a connection that would catch you in the middle of said lie. I always advocate for a truthful, honest approach but I guess that’s not the highest of priorities for everyone.

I met Jason on Happn, and don’t especially remember how or when we matched, but we started speaking and after about a week of general chit-chat he started getting a little pushy about meeting. Jason popped up in my recommended friends on Facebook one day and I noticed we had a mutual friend – the partner of one of my cousins. Some light investigating showed that he had been in the same year as her sister at school and, during school, was friends with the sister’s boyfriend – though they weren’t as close anymore. They only stayed in contact through their friend group and weren’t necessarily the closest of the bunch, with Jason making new friends through Uni and work, drifting a little bit from the group, but I at least knew he was a real person and not a catfish. This connection later proved to be a way to catch him lying. For the purposes of this story I will call my cousin’s partner Jenna, her sister Elise and Elise’s boyfriend Eric, as these will be key players a little later on.
Jason happened to get rather pushy about the whole idea of planning a date, and after a few days I eventually gave in to get him off my back. He wasn’t over the top pushy about anything, he was just a little excited about planning a date.  I only had one day free that I could potentially do, though I had to go to a class later in the afternoon so I made a point of saying to him that I had only a limited window this day, and that I would need to leave at a certain time. This didn’t seem to suit Jason, as he was only available for a limited window in the middle of the day himself. Ok, no problem, if it gets this awful experience over and done with sooner then I’ll skip my class, no hassle. He wasn’t the most fascinating person to hold a conversation with, so I wasn’t exactly excited about the date (but remember, I’ve been planning this blog for a really long time, so I was willing to go through with it. And who knows, maybe he would surprise me? Spoiler Alert – he did, but not in a nice way.)

Come the day we were supposed to meet and Jason was opening all my snaps but not responding. A bit weird, but I wasn’t supposed to meet him until 11:30 and he may have just been busy. He had said he would text me when he was available and we could meet, but our default time was 11:30, just in case. Cool. Jason had said that he was busy that morning so I wasn’t too worried.
11:30 came round and he still hadn’t said anything but I was supposed to be meeting him at a café near my house, so I decided to drive past and check to see if he were there as we had planned to meet outside. The (non-mafia style) drive by proved fruitless as he wasn’t there, so I decided to go back home, as I could be at the café within 5 minutes if he suddenly got there because he was late in traffic. 12pm rolled around and still no word, so I sent him a message to check that he was ok and to let him know that I would be leaving for my class at 2 and would still be able to make it if he really wanted to hang out, my time would just be a little more limited. I also let him know that my lecturer had told us that morning that we couldn’t miss this class as it would contain vital information about an upcoming assignment that we all needed to know.
At about 1, Jason finally texted me back (after opening the message I sent him on Snapchat instantly after sending it.) and the following lie ensued –
Hey * redacted * sorry,  I’ve not even checked my phone today I’ve just been so overwhelmed.” First, before we go any further I’ll say I know that’s not true as he had been on Instagram, had seen the story I posted almost instantly after I posted it, had liked a photo I posted, had commented on Elise’s latest photo of the group at a festival and had opened every single message I sent him within seconds of me sending it. But let’s carry on.
Late last night my friend Eric messaged me to let me know his girlfriend’s dad had died very suddenly that night.” Pause. Remember when I said you needed to remember some key players? Eric is Elise’s boyfriend. Elise is Jenna’s sister. Jenna is dating my cousin, both of whom I am very close to, so this came as news to me. Jenna’s family have been like family to us since they were in school as they have been so close and together for so long that we’ve come to know them quite well. My heart sunk in my chest thinking about Jenna’s dad dying, but some part of me felt this wasn’t the full story. But again, we’ll carry on.
“He died last night and we’re at the funeral today.” Pause again. How fast are funerals usually organised after someone dies? I didn’t think if he had died late last night, as Jason claimed, it would be organised by 11:30 the next day. Carrying on.
I was so so close to him at school, he was like a dad to me at times, so this is a really hard day and I’d appreciate it if you respected my privacy and left me to be with my family today.”

A quick scan of Jenna and Elise’s profiles, and a frantic message to Jenna sent, I found out that not only was her dad alive and well, but that Jason wasn’t close to the group at all, he had in fact been ousted after he drunkenly tried to come on to Elise in front of Eric. I told Jenna the story, and agreed with her that not only was this excuse pathetic but also disgusting that he would go this far to get out of a date. I decided to check in with old mate, seeing as this was SUCH a hard day for him and his family.
Hey Jason, I’m so sorry to hear that. Can I just ask, is your friend Eric * redacted * ?”
Not an unreasonable question given the situation, and not at all unreasonable if he were actually using Elise and Jenna’s dad as an excuse, clearly missing the connection and shared surname of myself and my cousin. My surname is only common because of the size of my family, and not because it’s a common name like Smith or Jones, but clearly Einstein had not clicked yet that this connection existed. Hoping he had another friend named Eric, I waited. Ding.
“Yeah, that’s him! My best mate in the whole world, his girlfriend is Elise * redacted. * How do you know them? I’ll talk to you after this, I’m just at the service now.”
OH. BOY. You did NOT just bring Elise into this.
Yeah, crazy small world, my cousin is dating Elise’s sister Jenna. I actually just spoke to Jenna and she told me her dad is fine… Do you have another friend Eric who also has a girlfriend named Elise? It’s just kind of crazy that you say this cause I just spoke to Jenna and she said her dad’s fine. I’m not upset that you didn’t want to go on this date, I’m actually just kind of concerned that you lied like that when I quite clearly know Jenna and Elise… They’re a bit upset about this too.”
What happened next is something I will never forget, never forgive, and never stop laughing about. He had this to say-
Are you f*cking kidding me? You heartless c**t. How dare you insinuate that I lie to you about this, what kind of sick f*ck lies about this??” This sentiment was exactly what I had been thinking. What kind of sick person lies about someone else dying to get out of a date? I sent him a message to clarify that I know Jenna and Elise and had checked with them because I had genuinely been worried about their dad. This was his delightful response.
“Are you f*cking for real? You cold, loveless bitch how f*cking dare you, you’re not even worth my time if this is how you’re going to treat someone who just lost a friend. This is un-f*cking believable. I hope someone close to you dies very soon and you have to put someone in this position because then maybe you’ll realise what a c**t you’re being about this. You know what skank? No wonder you’re f*cking single, you’ll never be loved if you’re going to continue acting like such a righteous, stuck up slut. You’re not even pretty, go f*ck yourself. You bitch, you actual f*cking slut I cannot believe you. You deserve the pain I feel right now for Elise’s dad. Never speak to me again, you c**t.”
At this, I sent him the screenshots of my chat with Jenna, sent Jenna the screenshots of my conversation with Jason and blocked his number. Jason did in fact try and contact me a few times after that, and I reminded him that I was a cold, loveless bitch who wasn’t even worth his time.

And they say modern romance is dead.