The following stories have been edited for clarity and length.
I’ll start it off with a horror story of my own:
This guy I had been friends with for awhile asked me out on a date. Well, the day before the date (we were going to see a movie), he texts me and says something along the lines of, “Now, I’m going to offer to pay for your ticket. But, if you want to pay for it, you can.” I mean, I didn’t mind paying for my own ticket, but I thought the way he said it was a little rude. When we get to the movie, he orders himself a large icee (which is HUGE in movie theaters). A little while earlier, he had mentioned he was a germaphobe, so I knew he wasn’t going to share. He didn’t even ask if I wanted anything (I would’ve said no, but it’s polite to ask, you know?). At this point, I’m a little ticked off. Then we sit down and wait for the movie to start. The whole time, we’re talking about him. He didn’t ask me anything. As the movie starts to play, I feel myself getting angrier and angrier. We had texted for a few days before, and he did the same thing (which I didn’t really realize until that very moment). The only thing he had really asked me was if I liked to cuddle. After the movie, he asked if I wanted to go somewhere to eat. I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and said yes. Then he said something like, “Actually, how about we just chill in my car for a bit?” I knew what that was code for and thought back to the conversation and the icee and thought heck no. I gave the alternate idea of walking around the outlet mall that was right down the road. The conversation was still about him the whole time, and he didn’t even laugh at my jokes. Then he brought up his ex.
Here are horror stories from other students:
“The first date was a mess. Basically, I discovered her mother was a pimp. When I addressed this, she said her mother preferred the term “madame.””
-The author has asked to be kept anonymous
“A co-worker asked me out on a date and we agreed to go after work. He takes me to the arcade where he proceeds to try to show off on every game (I beat him at most of them). He walked ahead of me the entire time and wouldn’t walk next to me; I kept having to jog walk to catch up. He wouldn’t talk much except for small talk and then he asked me to go with him to Steak and Shake. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and went. He ordered himself a milkshake and didn’t ask me if I wanted anything. Then he kept bragging about how cool he was and had the nerve to ask me if I was having fun.”
-The author has asked to be kept anonymous
“I went out with a guy who
A) Talked non-stop about how old country and polite he was
B) Didn’t offer to pay for my meal despite his “chivalrous ways”
C) Mentioned BDSM and masturbation SEVERAL times throughout our (45 MINUTE LONG) date.
D) Gave me a complete list of all the drugs he’s tried and was currently on
E) Put four packets on mayo on his sandwich which he proceeded to dip in his milkshake (and chew with his mouth open).”
-This author has asked to be kept anonymous
“I went on a picnic with a guy who I was only mildly interested in, and it was pretty awkward. Both of our phones overheated, so we were forced to sit there and uncomfortably eat in the July heat. It ends when I (finally) cut it short and tell him I have plans for later that day. He gave me a kiss (which happened to be my first) that was wet and sloppy–then I proceeded to get into a car accident with someone who had cut across the parking lot. I had to sit there for several hours with him waiting on a cop to show up to deal with the mess. Honestly, he was a good sport, but I just wasn’t interested.”
-This author has asked to be kept anonymous
“Well, he took me to dinner, but he didn’t have money to pay for it. He didn’t speak the entire time. Worst part is that it was Valentine’s Day.”
As far as first date horror stories go, this one takes the cake:
Warning: The following may be disturbing to some readers.
I used to be an avid user of Tinder–until I got held hostage by my date.
The perpetrator – under the alias C – was cute, and we hit it off quite well after matching. Later that night, we decided to hang out. He mentioned that he had a mountain home and that we’d have a bonfire. I snuck out my window (I was in high school at the time) to meet this lovely guy. As soon as I got into his car, I knew something was off. He had a very empty, apathetic look in his eyes, his voice was very monotonous, and his words were slurred. In the car, we had light conversation, in which he casually pointed to the XL cup of beer that he’d been sipping on during the drive, and mentioned that he’d taken some codeine. He was swerving and laughing about not being able to see the road, and that’s when I texted my friend, Amber, to help me.
The plan had been that when I arrived at C’s home, Amber would send an Uber/Lyft my way and I could escape. To my dismay, C drove deeper and deeper into the mountain, slowly climbing in altitude, until I couldn’t see any lights for miles. It was dark, wooded, and quiet. I’d never been in such a remote location – and my phone had one bar.
We pulled up to some dilapidated and dimly lit cabin. There was a pile of sloppily cut firewood, a chainsaw, and multiple packages of beer even though I told him that I wouldn’t be drinking. What was inside shook me and was when I knew that this guy was psycho. In a crate was a litter of recently born puppies, and they were very emaciated. There were maggots crawling through their fur and skin, and they were lying in a pile of their own waste. Tears filled my eyes.
“These puppies need to be fed,” I said.
He shrugged. “Nah, they’re fine.” He asked if I wanted to play with them, and I said yes just to give the poor creatures the chance to run around. Despite their condition, they were very energetic and loving and cuddly. C proceeded to kick one very hard in its ribs, sending it flying across the porch.
“Annoying little shit,” he said.
I immediately used the Send My Location function on my iPhone so that Amber could get me (and the poor babies) out of here. As I waited, C kept trying to get me to drink and smoke marijuana with him, and I repeatedly said no. He was quiet for a few minutes, and then towered over me and said in a really threatening voice, “Don’t make me mad. Smoke with me.”
I anxiously checked my phone, to find a disheartening text from Amber.
“They won’t send a car there. It’s too far out.”
All I could think was, I’m going to die here.
I told C that I was cold, and asked if he could go make the fire. As he left, I searched around for a knife or any sort of weapon that I could use to defend myself. It was obvious that nobody had inhabited this “mountain home” for a while – there were cobwebs and dust everywhere, and no knives. I wondered if he’d killed the people who owned it.
C came back and told me that the firewood wouldn’t light, and brought a case of beers instead. I told him that I wouldn’t drink. After asking me (and getting denied) multiple times, he went out, and brought the chainsaw towards the house. He turned it on and just stared at me. Chills went up my spine. I texted Amber, “He has a chainsaw. Please.”
I didn’t want to call the cops because there were drugs, and I didn’t want to get into legal trouble. But I needed to get out. I smiled.
“Hey, C, I will take a beer!” I said shakily.
He smiled back, creepily, and said, “I’ll go get one.” He’d already drank the several he tried to offer me, and the rest were in his car. I guess he didn’t know that I was watching him because I watched this guy open a beer in his car, sprinkle something in it, and bring it back to me. I stared at it, but kept my acting up.
“Can we go to town and get some food?”
He glanced back towards his car reluctantly, then back to me, “Drink two beers first.”
There was a lot of back and forth, with him shoving beers towards me, shoving me, and making tentative glances at the chainsaw. I knew what he wanted, so I offered him sex if he took me to get food.
He sighed, and we got into the car. The drive into town was terrifying. He was drunk, high on several drugs (he’d taken more pills in the house), and laughing maniacally most of the time. As soon as we got to the drive thru, I hurriedly told him that I had to leave, and basically jumped out the car, running inside. I was later rescued by a friend and his father, who was kind enough to drop me off at my house without selling me out to my mother. The next day, I filed an anonymous police report.
Not for me, but for the puppies.
-The author has been asked to be kept anonymous
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