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!
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).
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
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.
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.
Yeah, look (listen)… This one is a bit sadder than it is funny or amusing. And I’m not proud of this one because I had real feelings invested and real hurt feelings from a story I plan to tell in future that influenced this situation. But I’m choosing to tell it, and to tell it far earlier than I had ever planned, because I hope in one way or another it strikes a chord with someone, and potentially saves someone else from feeling or doing this exact thing. Deep breaths. Here we go.
In 2019, and after finding out my ex had been cheating on me a lot and was leaving me to be with the girl he cheated on me with, I took some time off to gather myself, then got back the apps, not intending to meet anyone but to just get back in the swing of dating and to show myself that not all men are bastards as my breakup may or may not have lead me to believe. This is when I met a boy on Hinge (who we’ll call Logan in homage to my favourite Gilmore Girls boyfriend (don’t @ me)) who was actually pretty sweet – a DANGEROUS trait in boys on dating apps, but we’ll get to that.
I was just getting back on the horse after my heart was ripped out and shit on repeatedly by someone I was crazy in love with, when Logan appeared on the scene, and boy did that happen fast. He messaged me for the first time on a Tuesday and we had a date organised for that same Friday night that week by close of business Thursday. We got on ridiculously well, conversation was easy and natural, we had a very similar sense of humour; neither of us took anything too seriously and had a banter filled, flirty, jokey text exchange. Sounds pretty great huh? Oh, you naïve fool, you. He showed up to my house for our date (I made us dinner and we had a decent chat after, just getting to know one another and keeping an eye on the footy scores) and it was actually all pretty good. Over the next week the text exchange continued, of the same vein as the one the week before – against all odds, things were looking alright. He invited me to go out the following Saturday night after repeatedly and kind of forcefully trying to organise all week to hang out on various nights because “he was excited to see me again.” Even going so far as to message me all night while drunk on a boys night out, wanting to come hang out one night when I had a family dinner I hadn’t told him about, and wanting to hang out when I was getting my hair cut. He also almost came to drinks with a group of work friends because he was so keen to get another date on the books. Things between us seemed to be on the right track, and that Saturday night we opened up to each other and became even closer, something I have always struggled with, and still struggle with because of experiences such as this. But who am I to question it when a boy tells you (repeatedly) how amazing, cute, funny and great you are, how he’s starting to like you and enjoys your sense of humour. (SPOILER ALERT – this is never the case, and only someone damaged like me falls for this absolute wad of bullshit.) Conversation was natural, jokes were fun, everything felt easy and it probably propelled us in that direction a lot more than either of us expected. Through the night there were times when he would look at me and just smile, he kept reminding me how cute I am and how well he thought things were going, even occasionally commenting that he could see us continuing and wanted to do more of the same things with me. Eep.
But then there were the flickers in his eye of the not so nice. DISCLAIMER – Please do not mistake me saying that for me seeing something dark or dangerous in him – he doesn’t and I know he probably didn’t intend for things to transpire the way they did, but I also never suspected any serial killer qualities in him – despite the numerous jokes I made to that affect both to him and to others, I wasn’t worried there would be some Ted Bundy-esque side of his personality that hadn’t reared it’s head yet. He was somewhat recently out of a long term relationship, something we spoke about in depth that night and bonded over how our hearts had been so broken by people we had given so much to (Danger, Will Robinson.) Things could so easily go from light and fun to deep and meaningful, and I felt like we bonded really well. I’m not someone who enjoys physical contact when I’m on a date, I find it kind of uncomfortable and considering it was a second date, it was a lot for me to be as physically involved with someone, as well (and no you dirty minded freak I don’t mean sex, though we did sleep together that was only a very minor part of this story, and was not the “bad” element to it, though in the end it did leave me feeling used.) I had an incredibly physically and emotionally abusive boyfriend when I was young and have always struggled with being touched by people as a result, even if that person is someone I see as inherently good I am still scarred – a scar that even 7 years on has not faded. So when on the train home after a few drinks I decided to put my head on his shoulder and snuggle in a little bit, it should’ve been a sign that I was comfortable and happy in his presence. It’s not something I’m especially used to but it did feel right and ok with him. (By now if you’re not screaming “YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING IDIOT” then maybe you, too, are on the same deluded path I was.) Back at his car, after we drove around chatting for a while longer, he dropped me home and said his goodnights and then I didn’t hear from him for 2 days. Normally, our conversations came naturally and quickly, Logan wasn’t the type to wait a certain amount of time before contacting me again. He was prompt on responding and even started a conversation right after our first date where he told me he wasn’t really looking for it to be a one or two-time thing, and he hoped I hadn’t gotten that impression, as he wanted to keep seeing me. (Cue hysterical laughing from the peanut gallery.) He insisted that he thought I was pretty cool and was keen to see me again, so this action on his behalf felt… Off. Monday night I was at home watching a recording of The Bachelor from the week prior when I get the text. “Hey * redacted first name *, Hope you’re well! This fucking sucks, and I’m really sorry to do this to you, but…” It did go on after that but that’s when I stopped reading. He was the boy who didn’t understand how someone could intentionally hurt another in the way my ex had intentionally caused me so much pain. He was the boy who thought I was “so fucking beautiful.” (a sentiment I have never heard before – not previous to meeting him and not since meeting him.) He was the boy who made me think that maybe trusting people isn’t the worst thing. My, how the mighty have fallen. A quick back and fourth of texts where he told me he didn’t mean to hurt me and “felt bad about it”, and me unloading just how much it hurt me… He removed me from Facebook and was (within the week) posting Instagram stories basically every day with another girl. They went on hikes, went to the Queen Vic Night Markets, played footy in the park, the whole kit and caboodle, mere days after he told me how he couldn’t keep dating anyone because he was still so hurt and not over what had happened. Ha. I later found out he had seen this new girl the very next day (hence the distance from me) and chosen her, but not even had the decency to tell me the truth, instead lying to me (aren’t people just the best? I love being a respected adult.)
Now, a quick note to you, Logan. I know I said I wouldn’t include you on here, but hey. You got to lie, so why shouldn’t I? I’m writing this, not as revenge, but rather in hopes that someone out there sees this and at least remembers not to do this when they one day meet 2 people they “really like” and need to make a choice. Lying always bites you in the arse. You are the worst kind of person on this blog. I’d rather be able to laugh about 10 guys calling me chubby or telling me how ugly I am, because their opinions weren’t and will never be the ones I value. I value the opinions of the people who help me open up and teach me to trust. I value the opinions of people who not only tell me I’m beautiful, but make me feel it. I value the opinions of people who make me comfortable and happy and safe when I’ve always really struggled with that. I valued your opinion and you let me down big time by telling me how much you liked me and almost forcing us to get so close, only to lie to me and not even care about it, after all that nonsense you sprouted about how great I am and how much you liked me (which I now recognise as another lie you told.) Not today, Satan.Not today. In the spirit of honesty, let’s have some on my end. I went on a date the week after we last saw each other. I just don’t go posting it everywhere to rub it in, because at the time I genuinely felt for you when you said you weren’t ready because of what your ex did to you. I’ve been there. I’m still not entirely over all the abuse I copped at 14 from a sociopath with a pocket knife, as my fear of being touched will show.
If any of you out there are ever in Logan’s position, tell the truth to both sides and don’t drag one through hell for fun. You don’t know what wounds you’re opening up by being so forward and pushy, and you don’t know how your thoughtless, disrespectful behaviour will come back to haunt you. Maybe it’ll be when you’re caught in the act, or maybe it’ll be when the girl you lied to makes money off your story on a blog about the weirdos she met on the internet 🙂
So, for another short, bad app instalment, we’re going back to 2016 and to my first encounter on Bumble. For those who are unfamiliar, Bumble is an app where (in heterosexual matches) women are supposed to make the first move. You have 24 hours after you match to say something, and they have 24 hours after you say something to respond. Sounds stressful, yeah? Yeah. Very. But at 18 when all I wanted was to push myself and my boundaries, this seemed like such a smart move, and with my misplaced confidence and my ego still in tact (my, how the mighty have fallen…) I decided this was for me. Don’t worry, I do hear you saying “This is so stupid of you.” And you know what? You’re not wrong, it was very misguided of me.
I again armed myself with an artillery of dad jokes, puns, cheesy pick up lines and; combined with the witty things I expected to come up with on the fly about people’s individual profiles, I felt ready to take on the world. I’ve always prided myself on having a quick wit and an alright sense of humour; things I not only learnt from Lorelei Gilmore, but have successfully used to attract some of my better dates (so, you know, rarely the people you’ll hear about on here 😉 ) I also have a coffee addiction comparable with the coffee queen herself, and after this encounter I swear there was not enough coffee in the world to make me feel better.
I matched with a boy (let’s call him Luke) who I thought was pretty attractive. 6’1, 22 years old, tanned, buff, dark hair, hazel eyes… Sounds pretty great when you put it on paper, right? But then he opened his mouth.
I sent him a pickup line I thought of when I saw a particular photo of him walking out of the ocean, and what he sent in response was pretty appalling by my standards. I complimented his physique, noting that he had obviously put a lot of effort into it – and I admired that. But then he responded with “Well I’m touched. Maybe I could help you with some exercise options? Nothing wrong with being chubby but surely you’d like to be happier.” ALRIGHT bud, is that really what you want your lasting impression to be? As I’ve said before, I know I’m not a supermodel and that I’m not going to be everyone’s cup of tea – but there really is no need to be so passive aggressive about something so soon after matching. I am a fiercely private person by nature, I never link my profiles to my social media and I never give away too much information about myself because of my own personal trauma and issues. I usually try and keep my dating profile photos conservative to highlight the parts of myself I don’t hate. I’m also not chubby, I’m proportioned to my height and (as someone who struggled with anorexia for a long time) so the comment comes from the place all opinions in the beauty and fitness industries do. That misguided sense of righteousness. That “holier than thou” attitude when it comes to dealing out advice and giving constructive criticism. Could this even be considered constructive? Maybe to some girl, and maybe to the Pyramid Scheme I now look back and think he was trying to sell to me, but hey. I didn’t fall for it, I simply laughed at how confronting such a message was. Is this really what guys think is appropriate to say to women? Cause if this is what men think will work on a girl, can someone please recommend a nice Convent? I’m thinking of making a change.
Luke was swiftly blocked and forgotten, and my first Bumble experience went under the rug because I was too scared (and ashamed) to tell anyone what had happened until now, 3 years after the fact and many, many bad dates later. I gave myself another small break and went back to Tinder. At least there, there’s a chance the guy will message first! But is that always a good thing…?
Let’s jump ahead a little to break up the bad dates and tell the story of a really bad dating app experience. It was late 2016, I was back on Tinder after another stint off it and I was swiping late at night after a particularly shitty shift at work. It was about 5am and I couldn’t sleep, anxiety had me well and truly in it’s clutches over a myriad of small things that somehow became one big thing. So my late night swiping got a few matches, but wanting to avoid seeming like a booty call, I made a mental note of who I was planning to message with some witty openers later that morning and called it a night. I woke up at 12pm, less than bright eyed and bushy tailed, but ready to send my now well thought out openers to my select few. As I was typing out the first message (some less than marvellous dad joke, no doubt) I got a notification that I had matched with someone who I didn’t recognise. At the time, it didn’t seem like a big deal. I have been known to swipe the wrong way sometimes or accidentally super like someone while trying to wipe donut glaze off my phone screen screen, though I assumed he would be one of those guys who match with you and either never message you or never respond. I put my phone down and got ready for another delightful shift but when I arrived at work, I saw a message from this guy. Cool, I thought, I guess he was interested after all. I’ll check that later. So I got into my shift, was about the go on my break and remembered the message. So far, my dad jokes and cheesy pick up lines were met with lukewarm responses and the odd laugh, but this message was different. There were just 3 little words on my screen. “U butt ugly.” Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m not a jaw dropping, stunningly beautiful supermodel by any means and I certainly don’t live under the impression that I’m going to be everyone’s cup of tea, but there was something so cruel about matching with someone only to tell them how ugly they are to you. Just don’t swipe right? To be fair, I didn’t swipe right on him intentionally, and I’ve definitely heard that some people do live by the “treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen” mantra, but I’m not one to fall for that. My fragile self esteem and broken self image don’t work with someone who thinks that’s how to treat another person. I don’t want or crave approval from drop kicks on dating apps. This one was more just a laugh out loud kind of bad; the kind of bad you tell your mates about, have a small cry about and then remind yourself who the f*ck you are and get over it. No real heartbreak, or heartache, attached to someone who clearly thinks so little of you. Also, this from a boy who looks like a famous mass murderer? Uh-uh honey, not today. I took great pride in blocking him, but not before I showed the people that I worked with who seemed to get a rise out of it, too. I’m sure there were some story behind him messaging me that, maybe I reminded him of his ex girlfriend, or a girl who rejected him in high school. Maybe I am just so radiantly beautiful he couldn’t control it and what he tried to say came out in moron 😉 and maybe, just maybe, he was an immature 19 year old who was attempting to insult me into liking him.
There is absolutely no part of me that wonders where this guy ended up, or whether he found success on an app, as in mid 2019 he ended up liking and commenting on one of my (better) photos on Hinge, telling me how stunning I am and how bright my smile is. You’re not wrong, my dude, I am stunning and I do have a very bright smile. You look far too much like Richard Speck, which on it’s own is suspicious enough, but 3 years ago I decided – you’re just not worth the effort. **flips hair and saunters off **
Did anyone ever write poetry for class or homework in primary school and write about a cool thing they saw their dog do, or what they saw on Lizzie McGuire the week before? Because same. My standards for, and understanding of, poetry have always been a bit flimsy- if not non-existent. I appreciate sonnets, I really enjoy Sylvia Plath, and occasionally I’ll laugh at a dirty limerick. But that’s really it. I instead prefer other outlets. I journal for therapy, I obviously write a blog about bad dates (hello) and sometimes as a teenager I dabbled in creative writing for school work. I always enjoyed English and Literature subjects at high school as I love reading and discussing books and themes, motifs and symbolism were always so interesting to me. To summarise, I enjoy language but don’t especially enjoy poetry. Enter a well intentioned student studying English and Creative Writing. He was sweet enough, probably not on a soul mate level and definitely not what I’d consider to be my “type” (if you can really say you have one.) But this was one who fell hard and fast, and had never had a girlfriend before so was eager to impress me. In his attempts, though, he showed some fatal character flaws that pushed me away. I can’t tell if it was the constant drinking and the drunk messaging, the way he decided to go gambling every so often with friends but would then get stressed about money (don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against a casual game of cards, but when you turn around and start complaining about money and your lack there of, we’ll have issues.) but there were a lot of things that really pushed me into not liking this boy, and it didn’t end in a way that I’m proud of… I like to think I’m a fairly straightforward person, though patient is certainly not a way my friends or family would describe me. If you complain about money, cut back on expenses where possible, get a job (buy your own shit, and stay out of the forest), get a room mate to lower your personal expenses, even consider a budget to keep on top of everything. If you have problems with alcohol and how you behave when you drink, cut back. I am not shy about telling people to pull their head out when it is absolutely necessary, and sometimes my “nice” approach is too similar to being a push over. I don’t want to offend, but I also have a low tolerance for bullshit (but there will be more on this later.) So when he exhibited the above behaviours, cried one day when I was stressed and upset about something not related to him at all, and then got his FRIENDS to message me to ask if things were ok with “us” (what is this, high school?!) my patience for him wore thin, leading to a final showdown via Facebook. But not before the aforementioned poem…
‘Twas the morning of the Eurovision Grand Final 2016 and I was at a girlfriend’s house to watch the action unfold live. It was 4am and I was wiped out, mentally writing off the rest of my day in order to recover and not be a complete wreck the rest of the week. At around 8am, the boy (let’s call him Ross) messages me asking how my day’s been and “if I liked it.” What? I thought, Of course I liked my day, it’s 8am and I’m awake watching Europe showcase their finest, most cringey performers against the stunning backdrop of Sweden, what’s not to love! But then later in the day, when the girls and I had decided it was time to make breakfast, Ross messaged me again and asked “if I’d seen it yet.” Seriously? Did we not cover this a few hours ago, yes I’ve seen it, it was controversial! Ukraine!! The conversation went in my head. I ignored his message, ate my pancakes and made the journey home for a nap. At about 3pm, I got a message from another girlfriend from class asking if I’d seen the latest email from our lecturer. When I opened my email, I noticed Ross had emailed me, but instead read the email from my lecturer (I have my priorities set straight.) My 9am lecture the following day was cancelled and would be instead an online module in celebration of Ukraine winning Eurovision (our Ukrainian teacher was obviously thrilled.) So a score for me, I had another day to recover from my sleep hangover. Curiosity eventually got the better of me and I opened the email from Ross to see a video attachment. Hmmm…
Now is where we get to what is simultaneously the best and worst part of the story. The poem. I won’t go into the specifics other than to say it made me uncomfortable on so many levels, and I regret how I reacted to this. I genuinely have not, even in the 3 years following, been able to get through more than 2 seconds of it without wanting to rage and vomit on myself – though I have, in fact, heard from multiple sources, what the poem contains. I just can’t bring myself to ever watch it entirely. But back to my bad reaction to this gesture. I asked him for space because I had been struggling with some stuff I was covering in my therapy sessions, and this whole situation was making me all the more uncomfortable. So I dealt with my own head for a bit and knew “breaking up” (if we can even call it that) was the best, and only, course of action. I wasn’t feeling much towards him, let alone to the level he was if he was willing to write me a poem professing his love for me and email it to me. I decided I would do it after my final exam, but that didn’t stop him from sending two of my best friends a group inbox on Facebook to ask them if they could talk to me for him. And to make matters worse, he had the audacity to compare his “feelings” for me to their level of friendship with me. Oy with the poodles already…
So this final showdown on Facebook involved a very emotionally fragile me messaging Ross to tell him that I wasn’t on the same page as him and that I was sorry. He was still rather pushy and it frustrated me when I thought I’d been clear enough with him, so my response was to send the above photo to him when he requested that we remain friends…
So. Here we are. Newly 18, single and interested in
exploring the dating world a little. As somewhat of an awkward person all my
life, I was keen to meet new people and get out of my comfort zone. In my head,
I had images of going on hikes with boys, having lunch or dinner out, seeing
movies I wouldn’t normally see, scuba diving, snowboarding, sky diving… The sky
was (seemingly) the limit, as my over
the top confidence and self destructive behaviour took hold. At 18, and without
a real serious relationship under my belt, I was excited at the prospect that
someday (someday, maybe – shout out to Gilmore Girls fans for my very subtle
Lauren Graham reference) I would meet someone who I could become invested in,
who would also be invested in me. This, however, is not the tale of how I met
that person. THIS is the tale of the boy who tried to poison me and didn’t even
seem to realize he was doing it.
For those who don’t know me offline (which will likely be the majority of you-
hi there!) I am lactose intolerant and have been officially since I was 14
years old. Now, usually when planning a date with a boy, they don’t recommend
something dairy intensive (like going out for ice cream or a wine and cheese
night at home) but in this case, I had to mention 3 times over message that
maybe going out for freakshakes wasn’t the best idea unless he wanted to spend
the afternoon holding my hair back while I spewed in the bushes. Could I BE any
more obvious? Apparently not. I explained several times and in the simplest
terms I could that I was essentially allergic to dairy and that I did not want
to put him through the aftermath of me consuming it. English was his first
language and he seemed to understand all of what I said the rest of the time –
it was just me explaining lactose intolerance that seemed to get lost in
translation. I’ve rarely chosen to use Lacteeze or Lacto pills to stop a
reaction, as when I have they haven’t worked, but the times I have have been
for special occasions – ice cream at places such as Pidapipó, pizza at girl’s
night, or the rare occasion I have to go out and don’t want to risk ruining my
day with an accidental poisoning (read – school formals and events, work
experience, dinner out with family.)
But back to the boy and the date at hand. We organized to go out on a Thursday
during the day as we were both off from university and I could squeeze in a
quick date before I had to rush off to my part time job. I was finishing up the
exams at the end of my semester and was feeling a little run down the day before,
but thought I would be able to push through and go on this date – I had the
Friday off, after all, and was willing to go out with him to see if maybe he
had just been nervous and misread my messages about dairy. But come Wednesday
night, I was at the peak of my chest infection and couldn’t breathe, couldn’t
move, just generally couldn’t function. I messaged him to call it off and was
going to offer to reschedule, as I knew it was short notice (it was 9pm on
Wednesday and we were due to meet at 9am on Thursday.) but alas the poor soul
didn’t see it and showed up to my house to pick me up regardless. I answered
the door in my pyjamas only to be greeted by an annoyingly cheery, somewhat
goofy, boy who clearly wasn’t very good at reading body language. He invited
himself in, and followed me around while I made tea, took my antibiotics and
even went to the bathroom (yes, he stood outside the door while I peed. I still
cringe even thinking about that.) I let my dog in for company as this boy sat
on my couch and laughed at memes on Facebook without really interacting with
me. Eventually, after a second cup of tea and another round of him following me
round like a lost puppy, I texted a girlfriend from the toilet and asked her to
call me and say that my antibiotics were ready to pick up at the chemist.
Dutifully, within 5 minutes, I got the call from my friend who – in her best
fake chemist voice – confirmed my name and address and then informed me that my
antibiotics were ready for collection and that I should come and collect them
now so that I could get the maximum dosage in before bed that night. Bingpot.
So this boy left my house, awkwardly kissing me in the ear as we both turned to
leave, I did a lap around the block and came home to nap the rest of my day
away. He sent me a few more messages on Tinder which I missed because I was
sick, but I did eventually read them to find that they went along the lines of
this – Friday – “I’m really keen to get those freakshakes! When can we reschedule?” Saturday – “Hey, did that send? Let me know when you’re free and we can organize
something.” Sunday – “I don’t know what I did to you to deserve this but I’m sorry L
I thought we had a really good connection and was excited to see you again, I guess
I’ve just ruined it again…”
I read the messages on the Monday when the fever eventually
broke and I was on the mend. I couldn’t be bothered dealing with his sadness as
well as my looming exams at the time as I was still pretty run down, though
that didn’t stop him from blocking me by the Tuesday morning.
I wonder if he ever worked out what lactose intolerance is…
Whether you’ve had a bad date and want to share, or you’ve had a bad day and just need to laugh, we have you covered. We don’t judge anyone and aim to share some of the worst dating experiences in a lighthearted, friendly way. Nothing said on this blog will ever be intended as a dig at another person, and no submission will be accepted if it names and shames someone specifically. We are here to have a laugh in a safe place, and nothing else.