The worst date I’ve been on was with a guy I met at a Halloween party. He was the nerdy type, and he offered to take me to see the new Thor movie. On the day of our date, we met up and took the bus downtown to the theatre. Small talk on the bus was awkward, but we seemed to have some interests in common, which was a good sign. While we were in line for tickets, he asked me if I had read any Marvel comics. I told him no, I don’t know much about Marvel, but I’ve seen The Avengers and I liked it. He proceeded to brag about what a big fan of Marvel he was, and how disappointed he was that there’s no “nerdy girls” on this planet. I told him I’m a big fan of Star Trek, so I considered myself fairly “nerdy” in that way. That’s when he scoffed that women can only be “fake nerds.” This offended me in many ways, but I decided to keep my mouth shut. After the movie, he quizzed me with different superheroes and asked me to categorize each as Marvel or DC. Every time I got one wrong, he would tease me relentlessly, and ask if I was “really that dumb.” We did not stay in contact after that date.
We met at a Starbucks through a friend who said we both had a similar sense of humor. Right after introducing ourselves, she said, “I thought you’d be taller. I’m sorry,” and she left. At least I hadn’t bought her a frappuccino yet.
During my adventures in online dating, I started chatting with a seemingly normal guy. After a month of back-and-forth banter, we decided to finally meet up. He told me he was going to take me out to a new restaurant and would pick me up at my place.
He arrived early, and when I got into the car he handed me a strange device I had never seen before. It was one of those breathalyzer things they install in your car after you get more than a few DUI convictions. He asked me to blow into it so the car would start, because apparently, he had passed the time by having some wine in the car while waiting for me.
I excused myself, told him I was no longer interested and went back inside the house. The most awkward part was the fact that he had to remain parked outside my place until he sobered up enough to blow into the breathalyzer to get the car started so he could drive home.
It was the Battle of the Bands, and the closed-down movie theatre in my hometown briefly reopened for the big show. There were a few rival teenage metal groups, then a cover band that might have been called Dads with Egos. Following this third act’s slam-banging rendition of “Another Brick In the Wall Pt. 2,” my date and I went outside for a change of scene.
Because of a six-foot snowfall, we decided we didn’t want to go very far, so we crossed to a neighbouring restaurant referred to by the locals as Fly Pizza. A low-ceilinged, dim, and sparsely furnished converted gym, Fly Pizza wasn’t the ideal venue for a date, but we were trying to make the most of it and act smooth.
The restaurant’s nickname was owing to the kitchen, where if you peeked in you’d see swarms of fruit flies, many of them wallowing in the pizza sauce. The management shortly appeared and asked us if we wanted to see something cool. We cautiously agreed.
We made our way into the back. Luckily, their surprise turned out to be a brand new litter of Rottweilers. The little bundles of joy barely had their eyes open and were squirming around by the oven. It was an unexpectedly sweet — if still unsanitary — discovery, and we were thrilled. Puppies and dates ought to be perfect for each other! When my date asked if she could hold one of them, though, things took an unfortunate turn. While adoring the wiggly puppy, she somehow lost control and sent it hurtling toward the concrete floor. There was a thud. We all gasped. Then the pitiful shrieking began.
Needless to say things became awkward and we more or less ran away. She said I must be thinking who knows what about her, that she must be cold-blooded or some kind of oaf. I didn’t quite know what to say. The only thing to do was shuffle back into the dank theatre to the soundtrack of noisy dad rock. But we actually stayed together for many years, and today we’re raising a happy puppy. So take heart! Bad dates aren’t always the end.
All illustrations by Christy Shao, Graphics Editor, and Brittany Hamilton