This is the story of the worst date ever. I’ve yet to hear another to rival it, but I encourage you all to post your own worst date stories.
The events you are about to read are 100% true. Some of the names have been changed because I can’t, for the life of me, remember the real names.
Several years ago, when I was about 26 or so, my mother decided to place an online personal ad on my behalf. The ad read, “Interfering Mother Seeks Nice Girl for Her Son.” Believe it or not, quite a number of women responded, and after a grueling screening process, my mom sent me the name and number of the one she thought would be the best for me. For the purpose of this story, let’s call her Angela.
I called Angela to introduce myself and to have a good ole laugh about how nutty my mother is. Angela seemed nice enough. It turned out she was also from Brooklyn and moved out to Arizona around the same time I did. We actually attended the same High School, but at different times. The only thing that turned me off about her was the fact that she sounded exactly like Fran Drescher. Also she was one of those New Yorkers who finds it necessary to talk about how, the Olive Garden is not real Italian Food. Blah blah blah I’m Italian, I know real Italian food because I’m from New York. Blah blah blah some more.
I decided stay open-minded and I asked her to dinner. She accepted, and we made plans to meet at Kyoto, a trendy Japanese restaurant in Scottsdale. Back in those days, Kyoto was my standard fist date place. I’ve since learned my lesson and have designated Starbucks as the new meet and greet location.
The first thing I noticed about Angela when I finally saw her was that she looked 0% Italian. She looked more Middle Eastern than anything, and when I asked her about it, she admitted that she lied. She only said she was Italian because my mother is Italian and she didn’t want to be prejudged by saying she was really Assyrian. Prejudged??? Who the hell knows what Assyrian is? I couldn’t even tell you where Assyria is on a map!
Misrepresenting herself was the least of the evening’s problems. She and I were like oil and water. The whole night, every time I made an attempt to be humorous, she’d get this uncomfortable smile on her face like she was taking a poop in front of a live studio audience and she’d say, “Oh Eric….you’re very funny.” If there’s one thing I know, if someone doesn’t laugh and just says “you’re funny”, they’re lying. And after hearing “you’re very funny” about 10 times, I was ready to excuse myself from the table and not come back.
Convinced that the date was going absolutely nowhere, I decided to strike up a conversation with one of the other couples sitting at our table. Oh yeah, we were eating at a family style teppanyaki cooking table, so there were other people sitting with us. I started asking the other couple questions about where they came from and how they met. Angela sat just sat there looking horrified that I’d do such a crazy thing like talk to strangers. Sarah, the woman from the other couple, said that she and her date met there at Kyoto and this was their first official date.
I told them Angela and I were on our first date as well, and about how my mom put the ad on the internet. Revealing our dirty little internet secret really seemed to piss Angela off even more. But Sarah’s eyes popped open and she yelled, “OMG! We really met on the Internet too! I was too embarrassed to say anything! How funny is that?!” It turned out that the guy flew in from Las Vegas just to meet her and he was planning on going home the next day.
Apparently, Sarah’s date barely spoke a lick of English, and he looked just as uncomfortable as good ole Angela sitting next to me. Sarah and I, however, were like two soybeans in an edamame pod. We didn’t stop talking to each other the entire time nor did we make any further attempt to include our dates in the conversation.
After dinner, Angela and Sarah’s date both excused themselves from the table and went to the bathroom. I don’t know what got into me, but I jumped on the opportunity to make a move on Sarah. I told her it was clear that neither of us were interested in our dates, and the two of us should go out. Before everyone got back from the bathroom we exchanged numbers and agreed to get together sometime in the near future.
On the way to her car, I gave Angela the “Sorry there was no love connection” speech. She made it a point to let me know that she didn’t really think I was funny and thought it was beyond rude to talk to other people during our date. She said some other things too, but I stopped listening. I was sooooo proud of myself for grabbing Sarah’s number that I didn’t care what Angela had to say. I admit, it was an extremely “non-Eric” type of thing to do, but I guess I was tired of going out on terrible blind dates and needed to make a bold move.
I’m sure you’re thinking to yourself right now, “That can’t possibly be The Worst Date Ever.” Guess what? You’re right! That was just the introduction to the worst date ever. I assure you, you haven’t heard anything yet. So go make yourself a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows, come back, strap in, and hang on.
A few days after meeting Sarah, she called me to see if I wanted to go out with her. A bunch of people were going to Kyoto again to celebrate her best friend, Allison’s birthday, and she wanted me to go as her date. There was only one problem: Allison just broke up with her boyfriend but the ex boyfriend was going to be there anyway. Also on the guest list was some guy Allison hooked up with in Mexico. Finally a third guy who also liked Allison was going to be there as well. So Sarah warned me that I had to be prepared for the possibility of a little bit of drama.
Pfffft!!! Drama?!? Drama is my middle name! No sweat!
“But I have one question,” I told Sarah. “how many boyfriends are you bringing to the party?”
“Ha ha, very funny. I’m only bringing you.” She answered.
Now I don’t want to give away too much yet, but that phone conversation is what we, in the story telling business, like to call foreshadowing. You can just call it a bad omen.
So Sarah and I made plans to meet at her apartment. I was pretty excited about the whole thing, but extremely nervous as well. Although we really hit it off at the restaurant, she was also one of the hottest women I’d ever gone out with. In addition to that, she was also a few years older than I was, worked as an Registered Nurse, was studying for her Real Estate License, AND she had two kids. I’ll admit, I felt a little out of my league.
On my way to her place, she called me to let me know she was running late, but her brother, John would be at her apartment to let me in. Sure enough her brother answered the door. He appeared to be in his late 30’s or early 40’s. It was hard to tell because although he looked younger, his hair was prematurely gray. John invited me in and immediately disappeared to finish getting ready. He was also friends with Allison and was going to join us for the evening.
I wandered into the living room, and sitting on the couch, giving me the once over was Sarah’s 16 year old daughter. Yeah I did the math. Sarah had her when she was 16. Her daughter asked surprisingly, “YOU’RE going out with my mother? You look more like someone I would date. Not her!”
Luckily I didn’t have to wait long. Soon, everyone got to the apartment, and we set off for the restaurant. We intended on having more than a few drinks, so being responsible adults, we took a cab. I didn’t know it at the time but that cab would also turn out to be a bad idea.
Three quarters of the way through dinner, while things seemed to be going great between Sarah and me, tempers were flaring between Allison’s ex boyfriend and her two other suitors. Twice, fights almost broke out and the manager had to come over and warn us to settle down. Right around that time, another couple joined our party. I’m going to call them Big Titted Indian Girl and her Prick Boyfriend, or Big-TIG and P-BOY for short. They weren’t invited to the celebration, but they somehow knew Sarah and Allison.
Big-TIG supposedly posed in playboy and she had no problem showing everyone her giant implants. P-BOY was a classic muscle head, Scottsdale douche bag. It was obvious the two of them had been drinking heavily and doing drugs way before they got to restaurant because they were both making quite a scene.
The manager came over again and asked us to leave the restaurant. This somehow lead to an argument between Big-TIG and P-Boy who started yelling at Big-TIG; calling her “stupid bitch” and “cunt” like those were her names. He then grabbed her wrist and kept pushing her in the face and pulling her hair. Big-TIG broke free and ran into the bathroom crying. Sarah followed behind her to make sure she was ok. Everyone else in our party filed out of the restaurant.
Before I knew it, I was sitting by myself at the table waiting for Sarah. Finally she came out of the bathroom and escorted Big-TIG outside. Before leaving, I went to pay for my portion of the bill and to double check that we left enough for the tip. I came to find out we were extremely short on the bill and that the three guys who were fighting over Allison all walked out on the check.
I tried to explain to the manager that I had to go outside to get the people who didn’t pay, but since everyone else already left he wouldn’t let me leave the restaurant without paying. I ate there all the time, and didn’t want to get banned, so I ended up having to pay for myself, Sarah, Allison, and the three assholes who walked out. 1 meal for the price of 6. What a bargain. 😐 Technically I didn’t really have enough money to cover everyone, but Sarah’s brother over-tipped on his portion, so I kinda scooped part of that to ease the pain. Don’t tell anyone.
After narrowly escaping getting my ass kung-fu’ed by the kitchen staff, I walked outside just in time to see everyone from our group stuff themselves into a cab and drive away. Fate would have it that I spent all my money back at the restaurant, and couldn’t afford to get another cab. I didn’t have my ATM card with me either because I left my wallet and my cell phone in my car back at Sarah’s apartment. I also left the keys to my car inside the apartment, so I was pretty much screwed.
My only hope was to walk to the dance club and try to find Sarah and her friends. Now I can’t say how far I walked, but in my head, it seemed like 100 miles. When I finally got there, I was able to find John and Allison fairly quickly. The three suitors were gone, but Sarah was back in the bathroom again with Big-TIG who decided to have a suicidal breakdown. P-Boy didn’t seem to mind as I saw him roaming around the club hitting on other women.
I sat down with John and Allison, and they were nice enough to buy me a drink after I explained to them what happened back at the restaurant. A little while later, Sarah came out of the bathroom to apologize to me for how shitty the date was going so far. She assured me that she really really liked me, and wanted to spend some time with me. She said she just needed to get Big-TIG out of her hair, and promised to make it up to me. As a down payment on that promise, she planted a huge porno style kiss on me.
Did I happen to mention how hot Sarah was?
So Sarah disappeared again, and I went back to the table and set up camp with John and Allison. We all talked for a few hours, and shortly before last call, some chick walked by our table, recognized both John and Allison, and stopped to say hello.
Girl: “OMG, Allison! What are you doing here?”
Allison: “It’s my birthday!”
Girl: “OMG! Happy Birthday! Hey, John! Is Sarah here too?”
Me: “Sarah is in the bathroom.”
Girl (to me): “Who are you?”
Me: “I’m Eric. I’m Sarah’s date.”
Girl: “That’s weird.”
Me: “What’s weird?”
Girl: “Isn’t it kind of strange to be on a date with Sarah and her husband?”
Me: “What? Her who? Who’s husband?”
I turned to look over at John and Allison and they both had giant “Oh shit!” expressions on their faces.
John wasn’t her brother, he was her fucking husband!!!
I felt like such a retard because I just spent two hours shooting the shit with him, asking questions about where he and Sarah grew up. What their parents were like. How he ended up moving to Arizona. Why he was living with his sister and not on his own. And I bought all of his bullshit answers, hook, line and sinker.
Almost as if on cue, Sarah reappeared. I frantically filled her in on the most recent turn of events, and she told me she lied to me because she was scared I wouldn’t go out with her if I knew she was still married. She and John were actually separated, but they remained friends and were still living together until he found his own place. Neither one of them had any problems with the other dating other people. Obviously 😛
She begged me not to be mad at her. She’s was soooooooooooooooooooo sorry and she promised again to make it up to me.
This is the part where I remind you how hot she was: Very hot!
Technically, I didn’t ask her how many husbands she was bringing to the party, so I guess you can say she didn’t really lie to me.
Thankfully Sarah managed to rid herself of Big-TIG, but it was already closing time and everyone was ready to go home. John, Allison, Sarah and I, and two strangers that happened to be going in the same direction, all piled into a cab, and we headed back to the apartment. 5 minutes into the cab ride, Allison leaned over and puked all over my shoulder and down my back. Happy Birthday!!!
When we got back to the apartment, Sarah’s daughter was on the couch, drinking beer, and making out with her 22 yr. old boyfriend. Not a word was said. John just headed straight for the kitchen, calling out over his shoulder “Who wants margaritas??” Sarah started walking down the hall, toward the bedrooms, looked over her shoulder said to me, “Come on. Let’s go.”
Ok, let’s recap. I’d been lied to, stiffed, ditched, humiliated, and puked on. I was pretty sure, at that point, that Sarah wasn’t the girl for me, but I was determined to come away from this date with something. So when she said “Come on. Let’s go,” she didn’t have to say it twice.
I followed Sarah into the bedroom, and faster than I could close the door and count to 10, she was naked and in the bed. I was about to follow her lead when the bedroom door burst open, and in walked Sarah’s 13 year old son. Where he had been all day, I had no clue, but there he was now. Oh, and by the way, he was naked.
Sarah’s son jumped up onto the bed, got under the covers with his mother and declared, “I’m sleeping with you tonight!”
I just stood there, with mouth agape, horrified by what was happening.
Sarah: “Josh, go to your room. Mommy has company and you need to sleep in your own room tonight.”
Josh: “NO! I’m sleeping here!”
Sarah: “Fine you can stay for a little bit, but then you have to leave. Eric, you know, you don’t have to just stand there, you can get in the bed. He’ll leave in a few minutes.”
Me: “Are you crazy?!? I’m not getting into bed with a naked 13 year old boy! You have to be kidding me!!”
Sarah: “Oh, don’t worry… we always walk around the house naked. We’re very European.”
Me: “Well I’m very American, and there’s no way I’m crawling into bed with a naked boy and his naked mother.”
Sarah: “Well you’re making me nervous standing there. You can at least sit on the corner of the bed.”
So I sat, fully clothed, on the far corner of the bed facing the door. A few seconds later, Josh started farting under the covers, then yelled, “ILL!!! ERIC!!! THAT’S GROSS!!! STOP FARTING!!!”
I turned around, stared the child straight in the eye and said, “Listen, kid, you have no idea what I’ve been through tonight. Do not even start trying blame me for your farts. I’m bound to pop a blood vessel.”
Just then, the bedroom door opened up again, and this time it was John standing there with a margarita in one hand and an unlit cigarette in the other. Oh, and guess what?
HE WAS NAKED TOO!
John: “Josh! Go to your room! Your mother has a guest!”
Josh: “NO! I’m sleeping in here!”
Faster than I could even say “What the fuck!?!”, John transferred the cigarette into his margarita hand, then reached over my shoulder, and snatched Josh out of the bed. In the process, he inadvertently pressed has saggy, wrinkly, gray-haired balls right into my face. I mean he literally smashed his entire package into my face from cheek to chin!!!
It was over in seconds, but the damage was done. John and Josh were gone quicker than the blink of an eye, but I could still feel the burning imprint of his scrotum on my face.
Most men in my situation would have packed it in and called it a night. Actually most men wouldn’t have made it out of the restaurant. But not me. I’m a fucking trooper! I’m firm believer that the harder something is to achieve, the more you appreciate the accomplishment. Sitting there alone with Sarah, who was still very much naked, it seemed that my hard work was finally about to pay off.
In my mind, the only thing that could possibly make up for 40 yr. old balls in my face was sex with a hot woman. If anything, it would help cancel out the extreme gayness of the prior incident. I began to unbutton my pants when suddenly the phone rang. “Don’t answer it.” I pleaded.
She answered it. “Hello? Hey! Where are you? You’re here?!?!”
Sarah covered the receiver with her hand and whispered to me that it was Big-TIG and P-Boy and a few of their friends. They were at the front gate and wanted to come up.
I shook my head and said, “Don’t buzz them in. Please DO NOT buzz them in!”
“I swear they’ll only be here for a few minutes.”
So Sarah put her top and mini skirt back on and went to the front door to greet our new guests. I noticed she didn’t bother to put her panties back on.
Big-TIG and P-BOY were there for no more than 10 minutes before both of them were topless and making a dirty dancing sandwich using Sarah as the meat. P-Boy’s hands were roaming freely all over Sarah’s body, and before I knew it, he was ramming his fingers up under her skirt.
That was it for me. I grabbed my keys and walked out.
Half-way to my car, I heard Sarah screaming my name. I turned around to see her running after me through the parking lot with her skirt all hiked up above her privates.
“Please don’t go.”, she pleaded. “I swear all this craziness is not what my life is like. Tonight was completely a freak accident. I really want to start all over with you without all these people around, but I don’t know how to get them out of my house.”
I’m not going to admit that I fell for her sob story, but I did think there was some remote chance I could still get laid out of all this. By that time, I felt entitled.
I calmly said to her, “Do you really want those people out of your house? Tell me you do and I’ll make them leave.”
I fixed her skirt for her, I took her by the hand, I walked her back to the apartment, I turned off the music and I said, in my best tough guy voice, “Everyone… get the fuck out! The party is over! It was fun. We all had a good time, but now it’s time for you all to go home.”
P-Boy was stunned and pointed to naked John and said, “He lives here, you can’t make him leave!”
Me: “OK, if you live here, you can stay. If you don’t live here, pack up your shit and get the fuck out. The party is over!”
P-BOY: “Sarah… what’s going on? This is your place. You really want us to leave?”
Do you know what Sarah said?
She said “NO.”
I did not pass Go, I did not collect $200, I didn’t even say goodbye. I went straight to my car and drove home half expecting credits to start scrolling down my windshield as this episode of the Twilight Zone came to an end. Then I realized this was no television show. This was my life.
Sarah actually called me the next day to tell me what a nice time she had and, believe it or not, wanted to go out again. I told her to lose my number.